


Nightmares and Reveries

by HisMomoness



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Eventual Smut, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Pining, Post-show canon, Zuko (Avatar) Needs a Nap, ignoring comic canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:28:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26185687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HisMomoness/pseuds/HisMomoness
Summary: Zuko doesn't sleep because when he does, he's haunted by nightmares. Sokka worms his way into a job and makes it his mission to get Zuko to relax. Lots of head pets and one vacation to the South Pole later, Zuko might just be getting the hang of it.Cue pining, some fluff, and eventual romance.
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 80
Kudos: 622





	1. Nightmares

**Author's Note:**

> This is purely a shameless excuse for fluff and smut.

It’s normal to have nightmares after a war. Zuko knows it is. They’ve all had them, his friends and he, they’re all used to dealing with them. He doesn’t quite know if it’s normal to have them be so horrifically vivid so many years after the war is over, so many years into an era of peace. He can’t stop them, though, so normal doesn’t really matter.

He just wishes he could sleep. He stays up late trying to avoid the dreams plaguing him, and even if he wanted to sleep late he always wakes with the sun, no matter how early or how damned exhausted he is.

The lack of sleep is probably what has him snapping at his friends within minutes of them arriving on Fire Nation soil for the first time in a year. 

Sokka nearly runs at him, folding him into a tight hug that has Zuko’s guards bristling despite knowing exactly who the Water Tribe man is. 

“It’s so good to see you, buddy! It’s been too long,” Sokka says into his shoulder. He’s smiling when he pulls back to hold Zuko at arm's length, but his face falls quickly. “You look like shit.”

It’s Zuko’s turn to bristle. “Excuse me for being busy,” he mutters. 

Sokka releases him to put his hands up in a placating gesture. “Hey, easy, just stating the facts.” He seems unapologetic but also not truly offended so Zuko turns his attention to Katara, who's now reached them, having moved at a reasonable walk from the boat.

“Katara,” he greets with a small bow. 

“Zuko,” she smiles lightly at him. “It’s nice to be back. My father sends his regrets for not joining us. He felt he needed to stay in the village to supervise the current construction project. I argued I should be the one to stay given it’s all being done by _waterbending,_ but he insisted we needed a break.” She rolls her eyes good-naturedly at the mention of Hakoda, and Zuko offers her a grin.

“I understand,” he says. He’d already heard as much in Sokka’s most recent letter. “I’m happy to have you both visiting. Although I’m surprised not to see Aang with you.”

“He’s picking up Toph and Suki. They shouldn’t be too far behind us.”

“Oh." He wasn’t expecting either of the women, but he’s not upset by their impromptu visit. “That’s great.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay, you’re happy to see us and you’ve been lost without our guidance,” Sokka butts in, slinging his arm around Zuko’s neck. “Let’s get to the good stuff. I hear there’s a festival happening soon? What kind of food are they gonna have there?”

“Sokka, you’re here to make sure the plans for the new curriculum are culturally accurate and respectful.”

“We’ll pencil it in, don’t worry.”

Katara’s laugh trails them as Sokka steers Zuko in the direction of the palace, ignoring the palanquin bearers who look at the young leaders as though they’ve challenged their grandmothers to an Agni Kai.

Zuko walks with the siblings to the palace, listening intently as they describe all the recent events that haven’t made it into their letters. It’s punctuated by their usual bickering. Zuko smiles and says little. He really has missed them. 

“I’ll, uh, leave you to get settled in and rest, then,” he says, once they’ve reached the pair of guest chambers near his own. 

Sokka gasps dramatically. “That’s it? You’re leaving us already? Too busy for old friends?”

“Well, no, I just—it’s a long trip, and—” Zuko sputters.

His cheeks heat when he realizes Sokka is laughing at him. “It’s all good, man. I do want to do something, though. Got any of the good sake lying around?”

Katara snorts. “Well, I need a bath. You two bozos have fun. Don’t touch the swords after the sake,” she warns, and slips into her room.

Sokka rolls his eyes and jerks his thumb at her closed door. “Sisters.”

“Tell me about it,” Zuko deadpans. 

Sokka winces. “If you do have things to get back to, I won’t keep you,” he tells Zuko seriously.

In honesty, Zuko does have work to get back to. It seems like he’ll never not be suffocated by work. “Nothing urgent. What would you like to do?”

Sokka grins. “Let’s just have that drink. Catch up properly.”

“Fine. One.”

* * *

Zuko has a self-imposed limit of one drink at a time. He doesn’t like the fuzzy feeling that accompanies more than that. The nightmares get worse, too, and since he’d discovered that he hardly touches anything with alcohol. Sokka, apparently, has no such limit, and within a couple of hours he’s flushed and more animated than ever. It’s not a bad thing. Just Sokka, but more so. 

Sokka wipes at his eyes as he finishes telling a story about Hahn coming to visit the Southern Tribe and promptly falling into a fishing hole. Zuko’s heard the name come up enough over the years to know that Sokka is not a fan of the guy for moon-related reasons, though he doesn’t quite see the humour. Still, watching Sokka enjoy himself is enough to have him smiling more than he has in several months. 

“Really, though, Zuko,” Sokka says. He’s looking into Zuko’s eyes with a drunken intensity that startles him a bit. 

“What is it?”

“Is everything alright?”

“Why would you ask that? Of course it is.”

“I shouldn’t have said you looked like shit the way I did, that was a bit rude, but really, you _do_.”

Zuko rolls his eyes. “Thanks.”

“Things are okay?” That intensity is still there. It’s been a while since Zuko has been visited by Iroh or Aang, so he’s not used to the sensation of being so _seen_ anymore. Certainly he’s not used to such concern from Sokka. 

He shifts a little under the blue-eyed gaze. “I’m not sleeping very well,” he admits.

“Oh,” Sokka says, nodding sagely. “Yeah, that makes sense.” Then he groans. “I’m so _hungry._ " 

Zuko exhales when he realizes Sokka is done asking questions. “We can make a trip to the kitchen,” he offers, and Sokka leaps up immediately.

“Lead the way, hotman!”

* * *

It’s two days before Zuko has much of a chance to speak to either Sokka or Katara properly again. An attendant announces that Aang, Toph, and Suki have arrived, and Zuko finds the siblings as they wait for Appa to land in front of the palace.

“Nice of you to join us,” Sokka mutters as Zuko steps into line with him. 

“Excuse me?”

“Didn’t think you had time for friends these days,” is the bitter answer he gets. Sokka isn’t looking at him, and Zuko wants to argue, but a flying bison is at his door now and he goes to greet the new guests. 

Dinner is good. Loud and long, but good. Aside from the fact that Sokka is pointedly speaking to everyone _other than_ Zuko. Even his ex-girlfriend gets more attention than him—and, well, not that he needs _attention_ from Sokka, but he’s feeling pretty pissed at being so blatantly scorned. 

They’re filing out of the dining room to head to bed, and Zuko lets Sokka hug everyone goodnight—besides Toph, she gives a hard punch to the arm—before catching his sleeve.

“What is it?” Sokka asks, shaking him off.

“What the hell is your problem with me?” Zuko hisses.

“ _Seriously_ , Zuko?”

“Seriously what, Sokka?”

“We haven’t seen you in a year, and then we get a few hours together before you ignore us?”

“I’m not ignoring anyone,” Zuko says hotly. His temper is flaring, and Agni, does he need a nap. 

“Could’ve fooled me, considering how much I’ve seen of you.”

“So you’re feeling neglected, and your answer is to ignore _me_ as punishment? Sokka, I have a country to run. You’re here to work, too. It’s not a vacation for either of us.”

“As if I give a shit about the curriculum,” Sokka spits. It’s so uncharacteristically harsh for Sokka that Zuko can only blink at him for a moment before he backtracks. “Shit, no, I didn’t mean that. I do care about the curriculum, and I will do my best work on it. You know that.” Zuko nods. No matter how angry Sokka is at him, Zuko trusts he will put his everything into his work. “I just really wanted to see my best friend, too. I missed you.” Zuko watches Sokka’s throat bob. “I _miss_ you.”

Zuko continues to blink, trying to push back the lump in his own throat and the guilt in his stomach. “I miss you, too.”

Sokka grins a bit, and Zuko’s tension eases ever so slightly. “Then can we stop being total jerks about it and have some fun while I’m here?”

“Of course.”

* * *

It gets better between them after that, and Zuko makes more time for his friends while they’re in the palace. The issue is that he has to make up his work sometime, so he ends up staying awake later and later trying to keep on top of what he needs to do as Fire Lord. 

He still wakes with nightmares at least once a night, sometimes with a shout lingering on his lips. He’s sure the guards in the hall hear him, but they’re either too polite or too afraid of him to comment on it. His chambermaid has the same reticence as she strips the sweat-soaked sheets more often than should be necessary.

He thinks he’s keeping it together pretty well during the days, despite the mild dizziness he sometimes feels and the near-constant desire to just be horizontal, but then Sokka will shoot him a look, with his lips pressed tight and his brow furrowed—and maybe Zuko’s not playing his part as well as he hopes. When the others start to notice, he panics a bit. 

“Hey, Zuko, are you doing alright?” Katara asks over dinner one night. 

Zuko looks at her. Did she ask him a question? He wasn't hearing much of anything from the conversation. “Yeah,” he manages, lamely.

“He’s about to fall into his soup,” Toph remarks. 

“If you’re not feeling well, maybe you should go lie down?” Suki says, in her gentle way. Zuko aches at her caring and her naivete. 

“I can try some healing, if you want. Just tell me what’s going on and I’ll see if I can help,” Katara offers. 

“I can help, too!” Aang says. “Katara’s been teaching me.”

Zuko rouses a bit at that. He’d rather not be a test subject for an inexperienced healer, Avatar or not. “No, thanks, Aang. It was just a long day.”

“I’ll say,” Toph snorts. “Those Earth Kingdom snobs were really slowing down the meeting about the materials tariffs. I’d rather wear shoes for a day than sit through that again.”

There’s a round of laughter, and Zuko only hopes that Toph can feel the relieved slowing of his heart. He hopes he knows how much he appreciates her for pulling the attention away from him.

Sokka’s the only one who didn’t comment at dinner, but he catches Zuko in the hall when he’s on his way to his study.

“Zuko, wait,” he calls. “You’re not going to bed? You looked rough at dinner. You still look rough.”

Zuko doesn’t have the energy for this. “I have work to do, Sokka. Goodnight.” He moves to enter his study, but the other man braces his hand on the door, clicking it shut again and crowding Zuko closer to the wood. 

Zuko’s the firebender, but the man from the South Pole gives off a lot of heat. Eyes are roaming his face and Zuko has to look away. He pushes on Sokka’s chest to slip out from under that scrutinizing gaze. 

“Zuko, you need to sleep.”

“I do sleep.”

Sokka only crosses his arms at that and raises his eyebrows. 

“...sometimes,” Zuko amends. 

“Yeah, I gathered. Why are you going to your study now? It’s way too late for work. I know what time you wake up, remember.”

“I have to do it now, or it won’t get done.”

Sokka seems to realize that Zuko isn’t backing down from this, because he sighs heavily and waves him forward. “Fine. If you insist on working, I’ll help.”

“What? No, this isn’t stuff you can help with.”

“What is it? Like super secret Fire Nation prison blueprints or something?”

It’s mostly expenses to sign off on and proposals to read and letters to answer, but Sokka doesn’t need to know that. “Something like that,” he says.

“You’re a shit liar. Let’s go.”

Zuko groans and lets them both into the study, where he sits immediately at the desk. Sokka hovers over his shoulder, apparently set on his ridiculous idea of helping. Zuko ignores him until he can’t take it anymore and hands him a stack of papers.

“Read these. Proposed bills. Tell me which ones are decent and which ones mean I have people to fire.”

“Don’t you mean, _set on fire_?”

Zuko spares him a flat glare. Sokka laughs at his own joke regardless and Zuko thrusts the papers forward again. 

Sokka takes the stack with glee, promptly settling into the hard couch and getting to work.

* * *

They fall into a pattern almost before Zuko realizes it. They have dinner with everyone, then Sokka comes to Zuko’s study to help him do his work. He doesn’t complain at all, the way Zuko expects him to at first. He just enters, takes his place on the couch, and works. It’s a reminder of how far they’ve all come since the war. How much they’ve matured. 

Zuko groans and stretches his hands over his head. “I think I’m done for the night,” he tells Sokka. 

“Sure. Give me five to finish reading this.”

Zuko stands and walks over to plop himself onto the couch that Sokka has claimed as his own. He rests his head on the hard back of it, closing his dry eyes for a moment. 

“Why do you keep doing this?” he asks. 

“My job, you mean?” Sokka asks. There’s a smile in his voice that warms Zuko’s chest. 

“This isn’t your job. You don’t even technically have a job here.”

“Maybe you should give me one.”

Zuko cracks his eyes at that, glancing sideways at the man beside him. Sokka hasn’t looked up from the parchment in his hands. “What do you want? Job-wise.”

Sokka looks over at him, blue eyes wide with surprise. “Serious?”

“I’m always serious. If you don’t mind staying here a while longer, whatever position you want is yours.”

Zuko’s not sure where this is coming from. He hadn’t had any plans to offer anyone a job—he’s not even aware of what he needs someone to be doing. He just knows that Sokka suggested it, and Zuko wants him to stay around a bit longer. As long as possible, really. He’d been lonely, with Uncle and his friends gone for such long periods. 

Sokka is in full planning mode, his chin braced on his hand as he considers. “I want it to be good...you still have that old guy from up north doing the ambassador thing?”

“Yeah. Want to be the Southern counterpart?”

“Would I have to wear the stuffy robes?”

That startles a laugh from Zuko. He hasn't laughed in so long it's probably closer to a wheezing cough, but Sokka smiles all the same. “Wear nothing for all I care,” he says, before he can realize what it sounds like. He angles his head away a little, hoping Sokka can’t see the blush creeping across his face.

“Uh, right. Well, Ambassador Sokka has a nice ring to it, but let me think on it for a while. I’ll just stick to being your assistant for now. You should start paying me, though.”

“You’re my assistant?”

“I’ve been helping you every day for the past week and a half. What would you call me?”

“Assistant is fine. Go fetch me a tea.”

“Don’t push it.”

Zuko laughs again, slightly less rusty. He settles back, letting Sokka return to his work without distraction. He really wants to be in bed, but doesn’t want to leave before his friend. 

He might have started to doze off, but he jerks awake at the touch on the back of his head. Zuko goes very, very still, his breath coming in shallow through his nose. 

Sokka’s hand is cupped on the base of his skull, fingers lightly massaging circles into the very top of his neck. Zuko sneaks a glance to his side. Sokka is still reading, apparently oblivious to Zuko’s confusion.

“What are you doing?” he rasps. Sokka’s eyes cut over to him for an instant, and he lifts one shoulder in a small shrug. 

“I always see you rubbing your neck during meetings. You look tense.”

“Right.” That doesn't explain why Sokka’s hand is in his hair like it's a totally natural thing to be happening.

The hand leaves as Sokka stretches, tossing the scroll to the table beside him. “Bedtime it is. Let’s go.”

“Together?” Zuko blurts. 

He immediately wishes he was an earthbender so he could _make_ the ground swallow him whole. 

Sokka tilts his head, a little smile tugging at his lips. It looks like he’s trying not to laugh at him. “I might be your newly appointed assistant, but I’m not carrying you to bed, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Zuko sits up. “Of course not,” he mumbles. “Just tired.”

“I know, bud. Get some rest, okay?” Sokka gives him a last squeeze on the shoulder before leaving the study—leaving Zuko to groan into his hands and ask himself _what the_ _fuck was that?_

* * *

Everyone is leaving after the festival to celebrate the anniversary of the war’s end, and Sokka insists that it needs to be a legendary night out, the last time Team Avatar is going to be all together for the foreseeable future. 

For the most part, it is lovely. There’s some initial fanfare when the crowds see Aang and Zuko, despite their hoods to try and cover their arrow and scar, respectively. Once that dies down, though, and Zuko watches his friends dare each other to eat increasingly spicy foods and get overly competitive at the games—Toph and Aang _swear_ there was no bending—he feels lighter than he has in a long time. They’re leaving too soon, except for one, but he’s appreciated the time they spent in the Fire Nation. He wishes their duties didn’t keep them all apart for such long stretches. 

The _issue_ begins for Zuko when he sees Sokka stare with such open, absolute wonder at a firebender doing cheap dragon effects that he can’t look away. The firelight hits Sokka's skin in just the right way, softening his strong features and dancing in his eyes, which are a deep indigo in the dim light. It makes Zuko want to trap Sokka’s lip between his teeth and suck, then go to bed and do everything but sleep. 

_That’s new_ , he thinks, startled. It’s not entirely new, really—though it is particularly colourful. But Zuko hasn’t stopped thinking about those hands in his hair for days.

Sokka turns to him and says something Zuko doesn’t catch. He smiles weakly, which is apparently an acceptable answer, and when Sokka turns back to the show Zuko slips away to get a drink. It’s strong, burning on the way down. Exactly what he wants. He finishes it quickly and gets another. 

The heavy, electric energy that settles in his blood is welcome for once. He’s enjoying the festival’s sights a lot more with a bit of haze in his vision, and finds himself laughing and talking more. Usually he loathes these kinds of crowds. He hates being jostled and he gets overwhelmed by the voices and bodies pressing in on him. It’s far more tolerable after those drinks. He feels looser now, a little more awake than he was a few hours ago. 

The drinks don’t abide by his rule, however, and his every sense is more tuned in to Sokka than ever. The drunken haze slides off of Sokka like droplets of water rolling down a turtleduck shell. He’s gorgeous, one of the only things Zuko thinks is even worth looking at. He can hardly take his eyes from him. 

Suddenly Aang has his arm under Zuko’s and is half-dragging his useless body back to the palace. Zuko might be babbling something—he’s not sure. At least if he is, it’s Aang listening. He’ll be too polite to hold anything against Zuko in the morning. 

They reach the palace, and the arms change. Zuko knows Sokka is holding him up without looking, just by his smell and the touch of those hands that he has decided he loves. How could he not love hands that make his head feel all relaxed and fuzzy? Those hands are the best. Those hands brush the hair from his face as Zuko is deposited into his bed. 

“You’re such a lightweight,” Sokka mutters. No candles are lit—and Zuko is too drunk to remember that he is a human candle—so he can’t see Sokka’s face as he flops onto the other side of the mattress, but he doesn’t really sound annoyed. 

“Sorry,” Zuko slurs. 

“S’fine. Go to sleep.”

Zuko goes under hard.

He’s inevitably hurtled out of sleep by his traitorous subconscious. 

He bolts upright, slick with sweat and panting. He doesn’t think he shouted, this time, but his throat feels raw. Sokka stirs beside him and sits up.

“Zuko? What’s wrong?” Sokka still sounds a little drunk. He probably is—it’s still dark out, and Zuko doesn’t feel the creep of dawn in his chest yet. 

“Nothing. Go back to sleep.”

A hand fumbles across the covers. Warm fingers wrap around his forearm. “Zuko?”

“What?”

“Nightmares?”

Of course Sokka knows. “Yeah,” Zuko says, hoarse. 

“Want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Okay. But you should talk about it sometime. I’m a pretty good therapizer, you know.”

“Sure.”

“Sure you’ll talk about it? Or sure you recognize my prowess as a healer of the mind?”

Sokka’s intoxication has done little to dampen his confidence. “If I talk will you shut up?”

“Mmmaybe.”

“Yes, I have nightmares. Every night. Mostly about my family, but sometimes about my friends getting hurt. Sometimes about how I’m definitely fucking up this whole Fire Lord thing even worse than I thought I would.”

Silence.

Zuko stifles a groan. He should not have unloaded that onto his drunk friend who he may or may not be feeling more than friendly toward. 

Finally, Sokka speaks, his voice low and serious. “You’re not fucking up, buddy.”

“I am, though. Not all the time but a little bit at a time, and eventually everyone will realize that I’m not fit to do this.”

“Nobody is going to realize that because it’s a load of shit.”

“I’m failing.”

“You’re amazing.”

Zuko’s mouth opens but he has no response to that. He doesn’t trust the words but he trusts Sokka, and Sokka wouldn’t lie to him. 

He gets a firm smack to the back of the head.

“What the _hell,_ Sokka?”

“Stop being stupid.”

Zuko grumbles and tosses himself back onto the bed, on his side. “I’m not arguing with you. You’re drunk.”

Zuko thinks he’s unlikely to sleep again, with his awareness of Sokka’s body in the bed less than two feet from him. He thinks he’s especially unlikely to sleep when fingers creep into his sweat-dampened hair, working circles into his scalp—but he does, easily and swiftly. 

* * *

Zuko leaves before Sokka wakes and doesn’t expect to see him until the afternoon when they’re set to send off the rest of their friends, if his headache is anything to match Zuko’s own. He’s surprised to see Sokka burst into his study before noon with Katara in tow. 

“Ta da! Water Tribe to the rescue!”

Zuko winces. Okay, so Sokka’s headache is nothing compared to the one he’s fostering. _Unfair._

Katara sighs and looks at Zuko. “Sokka told me you’ve been having nightmares. I can try to help. My healing, it can sometimes work on things that aren't physical, but it can be intense.”

Zuko shoots Sokka a glare, feeling more than a little betrayed. 

“What? I had to tell her before she left! No time for subtlety.”

“Aren’t you the _plan guy_ ? You’re telling me you couldn't come up with _any_ kind of cover story?”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Zuko,” Katara cuts in. 

“I’m not ashamed,” he snaps. Naturally, Katara is not convinced, going by the look on her face. He files the edge out of his voice. “Thank you, Katara, for your offer. I appreciate it, truly. I just don’t think that’s going to help me right now.”

She looks like she wants to argue—Katara hates when people won’t take her help and be damn grateful for it. Zuko admires her stubbornness when it’s not butting heads with his own.

Zuko holds her gaze for a long moment. Mercifully, she drops it. 

“Okay. Let me know if you ever change your mind. I’ll...see you in a couple hours.”

Sokka waits for his sister to leave before exploding on Zuko. “Why the hell do you punish yourself like this?”

Zuko trains his eyes on the paper in front of him. His temper is pulling at the tether, wanting to rear up to meet Sokka’s. He wills it to stay down. “I’m not punishing anyone.”

“Yes, Zuko, you are! Help is right here, and you refuse to accept it.”

“Thank you for your concern. I have work to attend to.”

Zuko can all but feel the glare he’s getting from Sokka, but still he doesn’t look. Another muttered curse and Sokka stomps away, slamming the study door behind him.

Zuko is careful not to glance at Sokka hours later while they wait for their friends to load Appa’s saddle, but he doesn’t miss it when Suki drags Sokka to the side to speak to him in a hushed tone. Zuko can’t make out what they say, but when it’s his turn to say goodbye, Suki pulls him into a tight hug and with a soft whisper tells him that she’s there if he ever wants to talk. About anything. 

He manages to stand stiffly beside Sokka while they wave at their friends’ disappearing forms. Then they go separate ways in the palace, and Zuko doesn’t see him for dinner. 

He’s been in the study for a couple of hours already when the door creaks open and the warrior slips in. Sokka doesn’t go straight to his couch, instead bracing his hands on the desk, framing Zuko’s work. 

“Look, I’m sorry I was being a jerk, but to be fair, you were also being an ass,” Sokka says, before Zuko can speak.

Zuko deflates. He was pissed before. He just doesn’t have the energy or will to sustain it right now. He knows he was being an ass, knows Sokka knows he knows it, so it doesn’t need to be said. He’ll apologize later, and his friend won’t hold it against him.

“I’m so tired, Sokka.”

Sokka is visibly mollified, the tension in his body releasing so that his shoulders droop. “Come sit on the couch with me. We’ll work for a bit and then get you to bed early.”

Zuko rises without argument, taking his scroll with him. He settles on one side of the couch, the one Sokka doesn’t favour. He starts to read again. There’s about an hour of silence, and though the tension between him and Sokka has lifted, Zuko feels his headache renewed as he works. 

Sokka’s voice breaks into his thoughts on trade routes. 

“Need a rub?”

Zuko’s brain stutters. “What?”

“Head pets?”

Oh. The weird massage thing. 

“I’m not an animal,” Zuko mutters. He used to be, though. Caged and snarling and hungry. 

There’s little bite in it, apparently, because Sokka’s hand snakes behind his neck and works into his hair. His eyes flutter closed almost as soon as the sensation of fingers on his scalp begins. Then Sokka pauses, and Zuko wants to protest, but his head is being tugged down. 

Zuko shifts and allows himself to be laid on the couch. His head rests stiffly on Sokka’s lap. The massage starts again. He tries to let himself ease into it, into the strange feeling of Sokka as his pillow. It’s not unpleasant. 

“You good?” Sokka asks. His voice is lower than usual, and Zuko knows that if he says _no_ Sokka will stop immediately and never try this again. 

“Yeah,” Zuko says, a bit tightly. “It’s nice.”

“Good.” Sokka clears his throat. “So, what have you tried for the dreams?”

Zuko doesn’t want to talk about this, but he knows he won’t escape before he does. “Uncle sent some different tea blends, once. Meditation. Alcohol—you saw how that works. Exercise. I don’t know what else to do.”

“Hmm.”

“ _This_ is your sage counselling?”

“I’m thinking.”

“Ah, sorry. Carry on.”

“Jerk.”

“You don't hate it.”

“Hmm.”

Zuko smiles against Sokka’s leg. The so-called head pets have slowed to a languid rhythm. He’s being pulled closer to sleep again already, the way he was last night. He doesn’t have an explanation for that, but he appreciates it nonetheless. 

* * *

It becomes something of a ritual between them. Sokka’s taken to attending meetings with Zuko, even though he doesn’t have to, even though he doesn’t have a formal title—yet. Zuko means to fix that as soon as Sokka tells him what he wants to do. Usually, not always, they eat together. Zuko always finds Sokka in his study ready to work after dinner, though. Always. They work until Zuko’s eyes are so bleary and dry he can no longer read, then he moves to the couch and Sokka smooths the tension from the back of his head.

Zuko wants to ask about it, but he’s afraid that if he does, if he acknowledges this thing that they’re doing—because it doesn’t feel like a thing just friends do, not anymore—that it will stop. He very much does not want it to stop. 

It’s been two weeks since the others left the palace, and Sokka is still here. The new curriculum has been more or less decided, thanks largely to his efforts. Now it’s up to Zuko to get the damn thing past his advisors, many of whom resisted the idea of the other nations’ history and customs being taught in Fire Nation schools at all. It takes too much time and too much of what comes dangerously close to grovelling to suit Zuko’s pride. It’s exhausting. Zuko knows exhaustion well, but this is a new depth of fatigue. 

He realizes he’s reached a breaking point when he finds his eyes prickling with tears one morning at the news—delivered casually by an attendant—that a palace komodo rhino has passed away. Zuko didn’t even _know_ the animal. It’s _ridiculous._

He has a message sent to Sokka that he won’t be in the study that evening. Even Zuko knows when too much is too much—reluctantly and late, but still, he knows it—and right now he knows that even if it won’t be much help, he needs an extra couple hours of sleep. 

The day drags, and he barely shuffles himself into his room around dinnertime. 

Zuko startles slightly at the knock on the door of his bedchamber. He’s sitting up in bed, finishing a cup of tea and thinking too much to be good for himself. He sighs. It might be important, if the guards let someone pass. 

“Who is it?”

Sokka barges into the room in lieu of an answer and throws himself onto Zuko’s bed. Zuko had planned for a night to himself, but he can’t manage to be upset at the intrusion.

“Sokka, what are you doing? I told you I was taking the night off.”

“Yes, and now you’re taking it off with me. I hardly see you anymore.”

Zuko has to roll his eyes. “We see each other all day.”

“At meetings and when we’re working. That hardly counts. It’s not quality time.”

“ _Quality_ time? You’re so needy.”

Sokka laughs. “You have no idea.”

Zuko’s mouth goes dry. He _wishes_ he could see Sokka needy. Needy and panting and wanting—

That image is banished faster than a teenage Zuko.

“Do you want to go out?” Sokka asks.

Zuko would do it. He’d leave this room in a heartbeat, he really would, if Sokka gave the slightest indication that he wanted them to. But he’s _so fucking tired_ , and his friend is looking at him with such openness, that for once he feels safe asking for what he actually wants. “Can we just stay here?”

Sokka grins. “You got it, babe.”

Zuko blushes fiercely. He’s certain that Sokka didn’t mean to call him that, as the other man’s already up and rifling through the remains of a dinner tray left on a low table at the foot of the bed.

“You didn’t leave any for me,” Sokka complains. 

Zuko struggles to get his blood and his voice under control. “Why would I, considering I had no idea you were coming.”

“Are you saying I need an invitation?”

“Well, no, but—”

He’s cut off by a laugh as Sokka turns, a slice of moon peach in hand, and dammit, Zuko’s blushing again. He hates how awkward he is, how he misses it so easily when others are teasing him. 

Sokka settles against the headboard next to him and finishes his peach. “We can order another tray,” Zuko tells him. 

The smile he gets is well worth the effort of leaving bed to do so. 

They eat mostly in silence, Zuko absently picking at some fruit while Sokka devours the food as though he’d missed dinner. It’s unusual for Sokka to be so quiet, even if he’s eating. Zuko knows he has no qualms about talking around food. 

“Something wrong?” he finally asks. 

Sokka blinks at him and swallows. “Nothing at all. You just seem really tired, so it’s all good if you’re not up for conversation. I just wanted to see you.”

That last statement throws Zuko’s already limited articulation into a volcano. 

“Oh. Uh, you...okay. Right. I’m—yeah. I’m pretty tired.”

“You’ve been working too hard. And the nightmares…?”

It takes Zuko a second to catch the question in Sokka’s voice. “Um, yes. Still happening.”

Sokka frowns but doesn’t look surprised. “Maybe you should talk more about them. Let them out, you know? Maybe if they’re not all in the dark and secret they won’t be so scary.”

“I never said I was scared.”

“That’s the definition of a nightmare, Zuko. Nobody is calling you weak, so relax.”

Well. If that didn’t just cut through Zuko’s fragility crap with a hot knife. 

“I don’t know what to tell you. Besides what I already did.”

“Whatever you want. Nothing, if you really don’t want to.”

Zuko’s heart is pounding. This is why he didn’t accept Katara’s help—he doesn’t want to relive the nightmares when he’s awake. Once was plenty. “I—I just want to sleep, right now. Please.”

“Okay, no problem.” Sokka sets his own cup of tea on the table beside him and lies down. His eyes are already closed and while he’s still on top of the covers, he looks entirely at ease. 

Zuko gapes. “What are you doing?”

“Sleeping.”

“Go to your own room!”

“Nah, I like yours.”

Zuko’s no stranger to self-loathing, but it’s going to be a new low for him if he permits Sokka to stay here, in his bed, while they’re both sober. He likes to think he doesn’t hate himself that way anymore. 

Zuko snuffs out the candles and rolls over. 

* * *

He dreams of his Agni Kai. It’s more of a memory than a dream, and it’s always the same, the desperation and fear and pain as real as nearly a decade ago. This time is different. He’s in the crowd, looking down at the arena. There’s a din of voices, all carrying an undercurrent of anticipation that presses in on him from every side. His lungs are asking for more air than he can get. No fighting has started, but it’s already stiflingly hot in his robes. 

His father kneels at one end of the arena, and there’s a smaller form at the other end, farther from him. That’s him—that’s him before his life was shattered and he was branded in more ways than one—except it’s _not_ , because the boy stands and turns and Zuko would know those azure eyes from any distance. 

Sokka, younger than Zuko’s ever seen him and with his tribe’s warrior paint on his face, doesn’t drop to his knees and beg. He stands and faces Ozai, and though he looks afraid, he doesn’t look away. 

Zuko screams when flames erupt and engulf Sokka. He can imagine the paint melting from his face, the pain of the flesh underneath following it. His screams are mingling with the boy’s diminishing cries and the laughter of the crowd and his father.

He’s sobbing, his throat ragged as he gulps down the humid air between shouts. His shoulders heave, and he’s shaking, trying to dispel the image of Sokka being devoured by _his father’s_ hateful fire—

“Zuko!”

His shoulders are shaking because somebody is shaking them. His eyes fly open to meet darkness. Just enough moon filters through the windows to illuminate Sokka’s pinched face hovering over him.

“Fuck, Zuko, you were screaming.” 

Zuko can’t speak. His throat hurts, and he’ll cry if he tries. He’s just thankful for the weight of Sokka’s hands on his shoulders, grounding him, even if the grip is a little hard. 

Sokka curses again, one hand releasing Zuko to brush back strands of his wolf tail that have escaped their tie. It breaks the spell. Zuko scrambles backward, pressing himself against the headboard and then jamming the heels of his palms into his eyes. 

“Fuck, _fuck_ , I’m sorry. Shit. Sorry, ignore me, just ignore me. Fuck.”

Sokka’s weight shifts, and he gently pries Zuko’s hands away from his face, setting them in his lap. He moves so that he sits beside Zuko, close enough that their shoulders are pressed together. 

“Don’t apologize,” Sokka says, firmly but not unkindly. 

Zuko only barely resists the urge to say sorry again. 

It’s long minutes before Zuko finds his voice again, and Sokka doesn’t ask about it. He also doesn’t try to tell him that everything’s fine, which Zuko appreciates. His voice is raspier than usual when he says, “I dreamt that you got hurt.”

He feels more than sees Sokka nod. “I’m safe. We’re both safe.”

“Yeah.” Zuko knows this, and he’s eternally grateful for it. Ozai is gone. He can’t firebend anymore, and he will never have the opportunity to hurt Sokka, or Aang, or anyone else he considers true family ever again. 

“What do you need?” Sokka asks.

“I—I’m not sure.”

“Walk? Tea? Food? Burn something? Me shutting up?”

That, somehow, manages to pull a weak smile from Zuko, one he’s sure Sokka can’t even see in the shadows.

He felt safe asking for what he wanted earlier, and Sokka was happy to give. Zuko’s feeling a bit selfish, so he mumbles under his breath.

“I didn’t catch that,” Sokka says.

Zuko breathes in sharply, and says in a rush, “Head pets. I’d like that. Please.”

“Yeah, okay, of course. Lie down.”

Zuko slides down, back into the heat of the covers. It’s too warm, but he stills as Sokka arranges himself alongside Zuko and starts carding through his hair. Sokka trails from Zuko’s hairline down as far as he can go with his head on the pillow, making little circles the entire way before starting over. 

Zuko’s asleep again before he can over-analyze the whole situation, which is a blessing rarely afforded him.


	2. Waking

Sokka spends more nights in Zuko’s bed than not, now. The nightmares don’t slow. Instead, Zuko just wakes up with someone who waits until he’s composed himself enough to lie back down, then runs his fingers through his hair to put him back to sleep. It works, every time. 

Zuko leaves every morning before Sokka’s awake. They never discuss it. They attend meetings and work in the study after dinner and very rarely take an afternoon to wander the city with guards trailing them, but they never talk about it. 

The thing is, Zuko wants to talk about it, because he wants more. He wants to close the gap between them on the mattress, wants Sokka’s hands on more than just his hair. 

It’s been a month since Zuko dreamed of Sokka in his place at the Agni Kai. He’s never mentioned the specifics of the dream, and he knows Sokka will never ask. He almost wants him to, if only so he can give Sokka an excuse to pull Zuko closer, give him a comfort he doesn’t know how to ask for yet. It feels a bit like taking advantage of his friend, not telling him about his feelings. But is it taking advantage if Sokka offers? Zuko’s not sure—he hopes that he gives enough in their relationship, but he’s not sure because Sokka never asks him for anything. Except a job, and that doesn’t count for much. 

He resolves to broach the topic one evening in the study. Zuko’s already given up on work; he finds himself moving to the couch earlier and earlier each evening.

“Aang and Katara are coming next week. I asked Aang to be present while we enter the final negotiations for the new trade route with the Northern Water Tribe,” he says.

“Sounds good. Though you know he’s not the best politician, even being the Avatar and all.”

“No, but he does occasionally have good advice. And people are less likely to argue with me when he’s in the room.”

“Well, that’s true.”

“I’m sure you’re looking forward to seeing your sister. Too bad your father’s not coming.”

“It’s alright. I’m due for a visit home soon anyhow.”

Zuko’s breath catches. “Yeah?”

“It’s been a while.”

Of course Sokka wants to go home. He’s going to be chief someday—he can’t be Zuko’s “assistant” forever. Maybe this is why he hasn’t actually asked for a better title. He doesn’t want Zuko to think this arrangement is permanent.

Sokka rolls his neck and looks at Zuko as though he hadn’t just shattered every fantasy Zuko’s been stupid enough to allow himself to entertain over the past weeks—and if he’s being honest, some of those fantasies got their roots years ago. 

Zuko’s already preparing a speech in his head, ready to send Sokka off on one of his best ships the moment he wants to go, when he hears the question, “So, when do you think you can get some time off?”

Zuko only stares. Sokka smiles patiently at him. “Buddy?”

“I don’t understand,” he manages to squeak out.

“When do you want to head down to the South Pole for a visit? I’m itching for some sea prunes, but I can be patient. Sort of. I know you’ve been busy.”

“You...want me to come?”

“If you want, yeah, obviously. I like being home and all but the ice gets a little boring after a while. It’ll be so much better with my personal firebending heater around. And honestly, you need a break, my friend.”

Zuko knows the second he’s done for, and it’s now. “I—okay. Yeah. Maybe once this trade stuff is sorted? I can take a couple weeks then.”

He probably can’t. At least not easily. But if there was ever a time to throw his weight around as Fire Lord, it’s to make his best friend happy. 

“Great. I’d really like that.”

This changes things. He’ll wait to talk to Sokka. It’ll be better once he’s on his home turf. That way if Zuko fucks it up—which is likely—or Sokka never wants to speak to him again, he’ll be with his people. For now, he just does his best to return the smile Sokka’s giving him.

They work in companionable silence for another few minutes before the usual.

Sokka starts at the base of his skull like he always does, and the ever-present tension melts from Zuko as fast as ever. Then the hand creeps upwards, tangling further in his hair. He hears a rustle of paper and Sokka shifts, his knee knocking against Zuko’s thigh as he sits angled behind him. A second hand is on him, fingers spread to cover more of his scalp as little circles are worked into it. It takes a lot—too much—of Zuko’s self restraint not to moan right then and there, because hell and damn, who knew a head massage could feel this good. 

All Zuko hears for a few moments are the sounds of their breathing. He could be imagining it, but he thinks Sokka’s breath might be coming a little bit faster to match his own. 

The hands move to his temples, and Zuko catches Sokka’s left wrist on instinct. His breathing is definitely faster now, but no longer in a good way.

“Sorry,” Sokka murmurs. “Sorry, I’ll stop.”

“No—no, it’s just, I…” Zuko falters. He hasn’t let go of Sokka and neither has moved. Warm breath tickles the back of Zuko’s neck.

“The scar?” Sokka asks so gently that Zuko could start crying right then and there. 

He nods, the barest dip of his chin, not trusting himself to speak. 

“It’s okay. I won’t touch it. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.”

Zuko swallows. Nobody has touched the marred tissue since—probably since Katara, if he thinks about it. He doesn’t let attendants do his hair for fear they’ll brush his left ear or the side of his face. Even Mai knew not to try. Maybe that’s part of why she’s gone. 

“Do you know how I got it?”

Sokka’s voice is dark when he says, “Yeah. I know.”

Zuko nods again. He’s not surprised by this. Iroh has no qualms about discussing Zuko’s life story, and it’s not exactly a secret in the palace, anyway. 

“It doesn’t hurt anymore,” he says, unprompted. He doesn’t want Sokka to think he’s still broken, not more than he already must.

“Okay.”

“Can you—can you keep going? It’s alright if you touch it,” Zuko says, forcing the words through clenched teeth. He lets go of Sokka’s wrist. 

Sokka moves his hand to press his calloused fingertips to the right side of Zuko’s jaw, turning his head gently so Zuko looks at him. “I’ll keep going, but I won’t touch it right now, okay?”

He keens a little in embarrassment when Sokka wipes under his unmarred eye with a thumb and Zuko realizes he has started crying despite himself. 

“Sorry,” he mutters, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Sokka whispers. “You’re okay.”

More tears slip from his eyes as Sokka resumes his massage of Zuko’s scalp. Neither man says anything, and Zuko wakes the next morning on the couch with a blanket over his legs. Sokka’s sprawled on the desk, face down with drool pooling at the side of his mouth. Zuko thinks he’s beautiful, even like that. 

* * *

The trade negotiations are more stressful than Zuko imagined. It takes several day-long meetings where even Aang’s patience seems to be fraying. Zuko’s sure that Sokka sleeps through half of it and wishes desperately that he could, too. 

It ends, finally, and it’s acceptable. Zuko is still tense when he steps into the hall to meet his friends after bowing to the last of the other attendees. 

Aang, perhaps the only one who could endure these meetings and still come out with optimism, says, “That went surprisingly well.”

Zuko clenches his jaw. “I wanted the Fire Nation to give more. What we decided on isn’t enough for what the Northern Tribe has been through.”

“They’re proud, but they’re not stupid, Zuko. If they wanted something else they’d have asked,” Sokka says.

Katara seems to agree with Zuko, at least. “I thought it was okay, but they could’ve gotten more.”

“It seemed like a balanced agreement to me,” Aang offers.

Well, he would know about balance.

“Besides, these things get renegotiated like, every year, right? We’ll make sure next time it’s up to your standards,” Sokka adds. 

Zuko’s still bothered, but he gives a terse nod. It’ll have to do, for now. 

Katara starts speaking again, but Zuko tunes her out as Sokka’s hand slips across his shoulder and into his hair. Zuko leans into the touch a little, forgetting about the friends around them.

Katara clears her throat. “Uh, Sokka?”

Sokka looks over at his sister, and his hand quickly drops away from Zuko. 

Aang smiles that shit-eating grin that Zuko sometimes hates. “Oogies,” is all he says. 

Zuko fights a blush and rolls his shoulders back. Time for a subject change. “I assume Sokka told you we’re leaving for a visit to the South Pole in a few days?”

“Absolutely!” Aang exclaims. “We’re going, too. It’s going to be so fun! We even convinced Toph and Suki to come once we heard that you were taking a real vacation.”

“You guys can come with us on Appa, if you want,” Katara says. She’s still eyeing her brother a little suspiciously.

“My advisors will have a fit if I travel as the Fire Lord on the back of a flying bison,” he says, sadly. He’d really love to put away the crown for a couple weeks. “Sokka, though, you should go. Get there early, spend more time with your family.”

Immediately Zuko knows that he’s said something wrong, with the way Sokka’s face darkens and shutters. “Yeah, maybe.”

Aang glances nervously between them. “Well, there’s always room!” he says, a little loudly. “Just let us know. Katara, want to show me that new waterbending thing you were talking about?”

“Hmm? No, we can do that later—”

“No time like the present!” Aang grips her under and arm and drags her away from Zuko and Sokka. Sokka’s looking at the ground like he’s daring it to speak.

“Uh, did I do something?” Zuko says. He hates knowing that he’s in shit without understanding why.

“Nope, nothing at all.”

“Sokka, please. I’m sorry for whatever I did. Is it because we did the— _that_ in front of them? I didn’t mean to—”

Sokka finally looks at him, his face twisted in—not anger, hurt. Zuko curses himself. He’s not sure what to apologize for, but he tries again. “I’m sorry—”

“You’re such a fucking idiot sometimes, Zuko.”

He can’t argue with that assessment. “I know.”

“I wanted you to come on this trip so we can take a break _together_ , not so I could ditch you at the first opportunity!”

Zuko blinks. “I just thought you would want to spend more time with family.”

“Yes, of course I do, and you’re so wonderful for considering that. But I want to spend time with them with my—best friend around.”

“So...you want to come on the ship with me?”

“I mean, if you think you can get away with coming on Appa, that would be cool, but if not _of course_ I’m coming with you.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

“I just—sorry, I’m an idiot.”

Sokka laughs. He’s quick to forgive, unlike Zuko, and his eyes are clear and untroubled again. “Yeah, but you’re my idiot. Let’s catch up with the other two for dinner. Then, _you_ are taking the night off.”

Zuko opens his mouth to protest, but he’s cut off. “Don’t argue. Just trust me. You’ve earned it.”

“You’re not upset that they saw...that?” he asks again, hesitant. It’s their thing to do when they’re alone, and Zuko won’t blame Sokka for being embarrassed for being seen like that—almost intimate in a way that might make someone assume something about them that isn’t true, no matter how much Zuko wishes it was. 

Sokka just shakes his head. “Not at all. Just ignore Katara.”

Zuko thinks back to when she threatened to kill him, and wonders if she’ll do it again if she catches wind of Zuko’s feelings. 

“I’ll try,” he says. 

* * *

Zuko makes it clear that he will be travelling on the bison, no he will not be taking guards because this is a personal visit with the Avatar, and yes he really will be gone for up to a month or more and anyone who disagrees is welcome to challenge him on it since, recall, the arena has seen little use recently. Nobody takes the offer, and their departure day comes just as soon as Zuko needs it to. Relief that he hasn’t known the strength of in years washes over him when he says goodbye to Uncle, who will be regent while he’s away. 

It’s a fun trip, even if he’s no longer used to days spent in a saddle and nights sleeping on the ground. They stay in inns sometimes, when they’ve had enough of roughing it. For the most part, however, they’re all happy to spend the time together under the stars and around a fire. 

The nightmares don’t stop. Zuko’s coming to accept that they may _never_ stop. He just makes sure to sleep a little farther from the group and prays that he won’t wake up screaming. He manages to make it without rousing too much concern from the others. 

His only regret is that he and Sokka don’t share their casual touch anymore, and they don’t sleep within a body width of each other. Sokka seems to be keeping his distance, and Zuko can take a hint. Once they pick up Suki and Toph, Zuko puts even more space between him and his friend. He doesn’t want the others thinking that something is going on. Not if it hurts Sokka. 

Zuko’s starting a fire to cook dinner over when Aang approaches him one evening. 

“Did you get enough vegetables?” he asks without looking up. “If you hand me another pan I’ll cook them separately.”

“Yeah, plenty. Thanks, Zuko.” Aang hands him a bundle. Zuko thinks that’s the end of it, but the young Avatar sits cross-legged next to him. “You know I’m here for you, right?”

Zuko frowns. “Of course, Aang. Agni knows I’ve pulled enough strings with you since becoming Fire Lord.”

“I don’t mean politically.”

Zuko peers over. Aang’s looking into the fire—he knows Zuko hates to be studied. “You’re also one of my closest friends, if that’s what you’re getting at,” he says. 

“It is, sort of.”

“Right. Okay.”

“Zuko, as a friend, can I give you some advice?”

 _Please, no._ “Um. I guess so?”

Aang takes a deep breath. “You’re an excellent Fire Lord. There have been hurdles, and a lot of learning to do, but you’ve been leading with wisdom and compassion. I wonder though, are you happy?”

“That’s not advice.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s a loaded question,” Zuko snaps. He doesn’t have a good response, and he feels pushed. 

“I know. It’s a very difficult thing to answer, and the answer can change from time to time. But what do you think, right now?”

“I don’t hate my work,” Zuko says slowly. “It feels good to have a productive day or get something important past my advisors. I feel proud to do good things for the Fire Nation.”

“That’s great. What about personally?”

“Personally?”

“Like, your personal happiness. What Zuko feels, not what the Fire Lord feels. You know?”

Zuko doesn’t know. The pieces of him aren’t so easily separated. “I guess I’m not happy but not unhappy, right now. Tired, mostly. Things have been better with Sokka around.”

“Mm. Have you told Sokka that?”

“He knows I appreciate his help.”

Aang sighs and stands. “Vacations are a good time to reflect. Consider our priorities. Maybe think about what you want, and then ask for it. The worst that can happen is you don’t get it.”

“I’m used to that,” Zuko mutters. That’s why as a general rule he tries not to want things. 

“You don’t have to be. That’s my advice,” Aang says, then walks away.

Zuko’s not sure when that kid started to sound like Iroh. He’s really not sure how the hell to feel about it. 

* * *

They stretch the trip over a couple weeks. Appa is getting older, and they’ve all gotten bigger. When they finally need to pull out their heaviest clothes, when the water below them turns to ice and snow, Zuko starts to get nervous. It’s been a long time since he’s seen the village—since he rammed into it with a ship. Enough time has passed and Zuko has changed, but he wishes all the same that his very first impression on Sokka’s family could have been a better one. 

He whispers as much to Sokka as the village shows up in the distance.

“Nah. My dad first met you when you helped me do a prison rescue, so I think you’re good. I’m sure Gran Gran doesn’t even _remember_ you grabbing her by the parka and yelling in her face.”

Zuko groans. Sokka looks entirely too pleased with himself. 

Hakoda is the first to greet them all with a hug when Appa touches down on the ice. He clasps Zuko on the back, and doesn’t use his title. It’s nice. 

Gran Gran has not, apparently, forgotten Zuko. She glares at him over Sokka’s shoulder as she hugs her grandson.

Zuko offers a formal bow. “Kanna, it’s a pleasure to meet you again.”

The woman’s disapproving glare doesn’t relent. Sokka swoops in with, “Come on, Gran Gran, Zuko’s going to be helping loads when he’s down here. We’ll catch some nice fish for you and he’ll clean them himself.”

Kanna just huffs and turns to speak with Katara. Sokka’s already walking toward another group of men as Zuko grumbles at his retreating back. 

“I did _not_ agree to cleaning any fish.”

“It’s not so bad, Zuko. They made me do it the first time I came as Katara’s boyfriend. I only threw up once,” Aang commiserates. 

“But I’m not anyone’s boyfriend,” Zuko points out.

“I don’t need earthbending to know that’s a lie,” Toph says from behind him. He hears Suki giggle and refuses to respond. 

Sokka’s bouncing back already, saving Zuko yet again. “I’ll take everyone to their igloos. Follow me.”

There’s more buildings than ever in the South, and it’s beginning to resemble what Zuko remembers of the Northern Water Tribe. Still, many residents live in igloos or huts, which Sokka leads them through. Zuko’s lodging is the last in the row. He follows Sokka inside, ducking through the entrance to take in the sparsely furnished space. It’s already warmer than the outside air, even without a fire. Zuko starts one in the hearth anyway. 

“Home sweet home, for the next couple weeks,” Sokka declares. Zuko frowns as he watches him drop his bag onto the bed and begin pulling items out. 

“What are you doing?”

“Unpacking, clearly. I was thinking we’d hang out in the community hall tonight, catch up with everyone, then we’d spend tomorrow fishing. I think Aang wanted to go penguin sledding, too, so if you’re down for that we can go with everyone else when they head out. You can just watch, though. No pressure.”

“Are you staying here?”

Sokka looks up at him with confusion plastered on his face. “Well, yeah, I thought I would.”

Zuko takes in the single bed, far smaller than his own in the palace. He swallows hard. “I just—since on the trip, we didn’t—shit. Yeah, no, this is fine. Good.”

Sokka’s confusion turns to concern. “You good, babe?”

A small whine escapes Zuko instead of intelligible language, and all he can think is a tangle of _what the fuck is wrong with me_ and _what is happening_. 

Sokka grabs his shoulders. “Hey, words, please?”

“Uh, I’m just surprised?” He says it like a question, and Sokka’s frown deepens. 

“I can go stay at my usual place or with my dad, if you prefer.”

“No! No, this is good, I just thought that since we didn’t, you know, like usual, on the trip here, that you didn’t want to anymore.”

It was a barely coherent thought, but Sokka looks _devastated_. Zuko is more confused than ever. “I’m so sorry. Fuck, I am _so_ sorry. I thought you would be upset if we didn’t keep our distance when everyone was around! I wanted to be close to you, but I want you to be comfortable,” Sokka says. 

_I wanted to be close to you._

Zuko’s still not processing, but he can do that later, on his own time, so he nods. “Okay.”

“We’re not okay, huh?” Sokka asks. The bastard is actually smirking. Zuko scowls.

“I said it’s okay.”

“Don’t bother lying.”

“I wasn’t!”

“You were and we both know it. So stubborn.” Sokka runs a hand over his hair and sighs. “This is a vacation, right? All I want is for you to be relaxed and happy. At least, not miserable. For that I need you to ask me for what you want. Can you do that, from now on?”

That sends a bolt of _something_ through Zuko, and he shudders despite how warm he suddenly is. “I can try,” he relents. 

“Good.” Sokka beams at him, and rubs his hands up and down his upper arms. “Ready to go?”

He’s already gone. Zuko’s gone, and this is as good a time as any to take the plunge, even if it’s potentially the _worst_ time.

“Sokka?”

“Mm?”

“I want—can you—maybe, uh—I want you to kiss me.”

Sokka’s jaw goes a bit slack. Zuko thinks that maybe he’s misread, let his fantasies lead him into reading into things that have no other meaning, despite mounting evidence to the contrary. His mind automatically spins, trying to think of ways to backtrack. 

“Yeah. Babe, yeah. Okay,” Sokka murmurs.

Zuko stops breathing the instant Sokka tilts his head into Zuko and presses their lips together. He doesn’t hesitate— _for fucking once_ —to respond. Zuko kisses him back, trying to pour months of wanting into the action. 

He moans, involuntary, at the familiar feel of Sokka’s fingers tangling in his hair. They’re more firm than ever, guiding his head exactly where Sokka wants him to be. That could be into the jaws of a polar bear dog and Zuko would oblige. 

Sokka breaks away first, only to trail kisses along the right side of Zuko’s jaw and down his throat. Zuko moans again, tilting his head to give better access. Distantly, he wonders how soundproof an igloo is. 

Sokka punctuates his kisses with talking, because of course he’s still talking. “Spirits, Zuko”—kiss—”You’re so fucking beautiful”—kiss—”Took you _so_ long”—kiss.

Zuko’s dying, he really thinks he is. He’s useless, he wants to make Sokka feel half as good as he does now, he just doesn’t have a clue about how to use his hands anymore other than to hold onto Sokka’s waist like it’s his only tether to reality. It likely is.

Sokka comes back up to catch Zuko’s mouth in another hot, sloppy kiss. Zuko’s hands slip to the back of Sokka’s neck, and he pulls him closer so that their bodies are flush. Feeling emboldened by the evidence of Sokka’s wanting through their layers of clothes, he presses them back toward the bed. 

Sokka breaks away again. Zuko takes the chance to slip his head into the crook of his neck and mouth at the skin there. “Baby,” Sokka says—and _fuck_ Zuko wants to hear that word again and again— “As much as I would love to, we should take a break.”

Zuko lets another whine of protest slip from low in his throat. Sokka chuckles and pulls him back up for another kiss before dragging them apart. 

“Hey. I promise you. This trip is for you, too. You can have whatever you want. But we have to be polite guests for a few hours, at least.”

Zuko drops his forehead onto Sokka’s shoulder. “I guess so.”

“Good. And Zuko,” Sokka kisses his hair, “Later, I want you asking for more things, okay?”

Is this Zuko’s life? 

Maybe he’s dreaming. Maybe he fell off of Appa, somewhere off the coast of the ice shelf, and he’s drifting in the frigid sea in a cold-induced coma. If he is, if this is a fantasy—Zuko will gladly stay here. 

“Yes. Okay.”

Sokka pulls away, and Zuko feels the absence of his heat like a wound. He’s sure that he looks like a disaster, yet Sokka manages to look entirely composed. A little flushed and swollen-lipped, but at ease. 

Sokka smiles brightly. Even as oblivious as Zuko can be, there’s no missing the affection in his eyes. Zuko has so many things he wants to say to him. He settles for a final soft kiss before grudgingly leading the way out of the igloo. 

* * *

They play nice guests.The community hall is packed, everyone happy to have the visitors. There’s a large feast. Zuko doesn’t love Water Tribe food, but Sokka nearly makes himself sick on sea prunes. 

He’s the Fire Lord, though he has no crown for this visit. It’s the first time in a long time he’s been in a crowd of people without hearing his name prefaced with his title or some other grating pleasantry. He hardly hears his name at all. Somehow, Zuko is able to fade into the background. 

It’s a great feeling, the almost-anonymity. He’s more than entertained by watching his friends enjoy themselves and catch up with other friends from the Tribe. He’s especially happy to watch his new...boyfriend? He’s not sure what they are. He watches Sokka and doesn’t have words for all that he feels, but the label feels flimsy. 

Sokka flops down beside him after playing a game of chase and catch with some of the younger children. He flashes Zuko a wide grin, his eyes bright and cheeks flushed. 

Zuko has to look away before making a scene in front of the whole village. 

Hakoda joins them a moment later. 

“So, how long are you boys staying?”

“A couple weeks at most, until Aang gets antsy. Or whenever Zuko starts to lose it because he hasn’t had fire flakes in too long,” Sokka says. He knocks his elbow playfully against Zuko’s arm.

“I hear you’re putting my son to work over in the palace,” Hakoda says to Zuko. 

“Uh, sort of, sir. He asked for a job but hasn’t told me what he wants that job to be yet.”

Hakoda laughs. “Well he needs a job somewhere, that’s for sure. Can’t have him roaming aimless for too long.”

Zuko opens his mouth to ask what he means by that, but Hakoda continues. “Sokka, I went by your place earlier and it didn’t look like you had been there yet. Are you settling in alright?”

“Oh, yeah, dad. Just got distracted earlier and left my stuff at Zuko’s.”

“And Zuko, your lodgings are acceptable? We have far bigger places for guests, but Sokka insisted you’d be more comfortable in a visitor igloo.”

“It’s more than acceptable, sir. Thank you.”

“Relax, kid. Hakoda is just fine.” 

Zuko nods and swallows. Hakoda and Sokka drift off into an easy conversation. He only half listens. 

He feels terrible that even if Sokka didn’t technically lie to his father, he wasn’t totally honest. And he wasn’t honest because he wants Zuko to be comfortable. It just makes Zuko feel greedy.

The crowd only starts to dwindle late into the night. Zuko skipped the alcohol at dinner, but he’s still fuzzy from being so tired. 

Sokka eventually grips his arm and leans over to speak into his ear. “Bedtime?”

Zuko’s wide awake. 

They leave the gathering a few minutes later, after saying goodbyes and goodnights to anyone they pass on the way put. Aang and Katara left a while ago, but Toph and Suki are still going strong. Sokka rolls his eyes and tugs Zuko past them.

It’s a dark walk back to their igloo once they get past the community hub. The sound of snow crunching under their boots is calming, in an odd way. Zuko’s still a little unsettled.

“I don’t want you to lie to your father just for my sake,” he says. 

“What makes you think I did that?”

 _Because you do too much for me._ “You didn’t tell him we were staying together, because you knew I wouldn’t want everyone to know, yet. But that’s not right. You shouldn’t keep things from your family.”

“Zuko, I’ll tell him eventually. But it’s not just my decision. You have to be ready, too. And honestly, an announcement like that probably impacts you more than me.”

Zuko doubts that. He’s not sure what it’s like in the Water Tribes for men and women who pursue varying relationships, but Sokka seems unconcerned that they’ll have an issue with their future chief being involved with the Fire Lord. He’ll have to trust that confidence for now.

Sokka slips his gloved hand into Zuko’s and squeezes. “Thank you,” Zuko whispers.

Zuko still has about a hundred other worries, but he decides they can wait. He tugs on Sokka to move them a little faster towards their temporary home. Sokka chuckles. 

They stumble into the igloo—insofar as one can stumble through a doorway that requires ducking—and Zuko’s mouth is already on Sokka’s as he herds him towards the bed. He shoots a small flame into the fireplace to reignite the embers there. 

Zuko pushes Sokka gently onto the bed, pressing into him with a knee between his thighs. He braces some weight on his forearms as he leans in for another hungry kiss. 

“You were so amazing tonight,” he murmurs against Sokka’s lips. “I’m happy we came.”

Sokka kisses him again almost before he’s done speaking. It’s languid and unhurried, but full of a heat that goes to Zuko’s core. 

Within minutes he is almost painfully aroused. He can't resist a small smirk against Sokka’s neck as he grinds his hips down a little, gaining a small groan from the other man. Zuko tilts his head up to scrape his teeth over Sokka’s jaw, earning the same noise. One of Sokka’s hands is fisted in Zuko’s hair while the other roams over his back and ribs, eventually stilling on the jut of his hip with a squeeze. 

Zuko is loath to break contact, to lose the heat of his body pressed along the length of Sokka’s, but he also wants to just _look_ at him. He pulls back to wrench off his outer layers and takes a moment to drink in the sight of the man below him. Sokka’s wolf tail is mostly undone, and his eyes are wide with lust and warmth. Zuko’s mind rebels at the idea that a look like that could ever be directed at him, but the truth is inches away. 

“You’re gorgeous,” Zuko breathes. 

Sokka smiles, wide and sweetly, as his hands come up to cup Zuko’s jaw on either side. 

“So are you.”

Suddenly Zuko’s shoulders are grabbed and he’s flipped, the weight of Sokka settling on him as he comes down for another open-mouthed kiss. Sokka leans back far too soon, but then —Zuko could cry at the sight as he pulls off his own shirt, leaving the smooth brown skin of his chest and stomach exposed. Zuko wants to taste every inch of it. He arches up, pressing sloppy kisses across Sokka’s collarbone and the span of chest he can reach.

“Baby.”

Zuko hums in response, not bothering to pause his exploration. 

“Baby, you need to sleep.”

He snaps his head up. “ _What_?”

This is not the direction Zuko thought this was going. 

“Trust me, I wish we could keep going.” As if to punctuate this, Sokka rolls his hips into Zuko’s. Zuko can’t decide if it’s a form of torture or the best thing he’s ever felt. “But I can see your under eyes even in the dark. You’re exhausted.”

“Not that exhausted,” Zuko says. He’s nearly pouting—but really, why are they stopping _now_? 

“You’re still a shit liar, sweetheart.”

“Fine,” Zuko growls. As if Sokka doesn’t know exactly what he’s doing with the pet names. 

“We’ve got time. I’m not going anywhere.”

Zuko’s erection is inclined to agree with the latter half of the statement, but he lets Sokka roll them into the covers and hook one of Zuko’s legs over his hip as they lie facing each other. 

Zuko does need to sleep, badly, but he’s not going to until he’s less distracted. He opts for talking. 

“I never thought we’d be here,” he says, softly.

“In the South Pole?” Sokka says, with a smirk.

Zuko half-heartedly swats his upper arm. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, of course I do. For a while I didn’t think so, either. You’re pretty dense sometimes for a guy who they let run an entire nation.”

“What do you mean?”

“Did you think I was touching your hair and sleeping in the _same bed_ as you out of a totally _platonic_ sense of concern?”

Zuko blushes, thankful for the dim light. “Well no, not after some time. I just...I’m surprised, I guess. How long was this on the table for you?”

Sokka smiles a little at that. “It wasn’t until this last year, when I realized how much I missed you. I’d get so excited for every letter, and run back home to answer it right away. I read those letters over and over until the next one came. It was my dad who pointed out that might be the sign of something a bit beyond friendship.”

Zuko goes rigid. “Hakoda _does_ know?”

“Well, not everything. Not that anything has happened yet. He’s just perceptive. I suppose it comes with being chief, and my father.”

“Right.”

“Zuko, it’s _okay_. I’d rather it not be a secret, but nobody needs to know anything unless you’re completely ready for that.”

Zuko, true to form, hadn’t thought quite this far ahead when he was making plans to move forward with Sokka. “No, I don’t want it to be a secret. But...can we wait a bit? Get our bearings, first?” Sokka smiles, relaxed, but Zuko jumps to add, “I’m not embarrassed by you!”

“Didn’t think you were.”

“Good. And you…?”

“How could I be embarrassed? I managed to bag the hottest Fire Lord in the past century!”

Zuko lets a small laugh out at that. He’s certainly not embarrassed—as soon as he’s ready, he wants to brag about Sokka as much as possible. 

“That’s good.”

“So we’re agreed. Now _sleep_.”

It’s telling about how tired he is, that Sokka doesn’t wind his fingers into Zuko’s hair as part of their nightly ritual. Zuko feels a little bad for not recognizing that Sokka was drained, too. He wants to get better, more aware of his needs. He knows he’ll never have Sokka’s talent for being perfectly attuned to every shift in Zuko’s demeanour, but he’ll try.

Zuko watches Sokka for a few minutes. Sokka’s cheek is braced on his bicep, and his face is relaxed and open as he rests. Overwhelmingly, suddenly, he wants Sokka to touch his scar. Wants the feeling of safety and control that comes with choosing who touches him, and knows that Sokka will be gentle and considerate of how he is feeling. 

He’ll try being more attuned to Sokka’s needs—tomorrow. 

“Sokka,” he whispers, tentative. 

“Yeah?” Sokka answers, his voice already thick with sleep.

“I…” Zuko trails off. He doesn’t know how to verbalize this.

“What is it?” Sokka’s voice sounds more alert, now laced with the beginnings of worry.

Zuko takes a deep breath before gripping Sokka’s wrist. He pulls it up to rest on his neck for a moment before guiding the hand to his left cheek. Sokka’s hand is limp and Zuko’s a little rough with the action in his need to get this over with. The result is Zuko puppeting Sokka to essentially slap himself in the face. 

It’s funny, but neither man laughs. 

Zuko imagines what the skin under Sokka’s hand feels like. He doesn’t touch it often himself, though he knows that the scar is waxy and tight and rough. Unsettling, both for its texture and its meaning. He’s not ashamed of it the way he used to be, but he also doesn’t think it does his face any favours.

Zuko closes his eyes, tries to settle his ragged breathing. When he opens them again he’s staring at Sokka, whose blue eyes are trained seriously on him. Sokka’s hand hasn’t moved. Zuko releases his wrist to slide his own hand over to cup Sokka’s jaw. 

“You okay?” Sokka asks, in a smaller voice than Zuko has ever heard from him.

He nods. This feels more intimate, in some strange way, than what Zuko was hoping for tonight. 

Sokka’s thumb brushes under his left eye. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers. 

“You don’t have to tell me that.”

“I _want_ to tell you that, because it’s true.”

“I know what I look like.”

“You don’t, clearly, if you can’t believe me when I say you’re beautiful. It’s fine. We’ll get there.”

“We?”

“Obviously. You let me in and fed me, so now I’m here to stay. I’m also taking it upon myself to add ‘get Zuko to stop being delusional’ to my job description.You can figure out the compensation details later ”

Zuko rolls his eyes. “You’d stay with anyone who fed you.”

“Then I guess we’re lucky you did it first.” There’s a pause. “You still doing okay?”

Zuko had nearly forgotten Sokka’s hand was on his scar. He’s always been easily distracted by his humour. He tunes back in to the weight there, warm and gentle. “Yeah, I’m—I’m really good, actually.”

Sokka slides his hand to the back of Zuko’s head. He leans closer, presses his lips just under Zuko’s scarred eye and then on his mouth. He settles back and smiles. “Good. Now, please babe, for the love of the Spirits. _Sleep_.”

Zuko sleeps. He has a nightmare, one he can’t remember, and wakes up with a racing heart. Sokka doesn’t stir, so Zuko soothes himself by pressing closer to his chest and listening to the slow sounds of his breathing. He’s pulled back under in moments.


	3. Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't realize until editing how many times I made poor Zuko cry in this fic. Sorry 'bout that. (He's fine though.)
> 
> There's a super-duper brief mention of blood, just a heads up in case anyone gets squicked out by that.

Sokka, to Zuko’s surprise, gets out of bed before him. 

“It’s hardly past dawn,” he says.

“We’ve got a full day,” Sokka shrugs. “And I won’t get shit done if you don’t put a shirt on soon.”

Zuko rolls his eyes. “Really now.”

He stands and stretches. When he looks at Sokka, blue eyes are roaming over his torso.

Maybe they _won’t_ be getting anything done for a while yet. 

Zuko smirks. The space is so small that he’s already nearly flush with Sokka, but their eyes meet Sokka grins and hauls him the rest of the distance to bring their lips together. Zuko hums and savours the feeling of being skin to skin, the rough palms of Sokka’s hands holding his waist like he’s something precious.

The igloo flap rustles. Both men lift their heads to see Aang, still half bent over and frozen in place as he takes in the sight of them together.

“Sokka?”

Sokka doesn’t move, and Zuko’s too surprised to think that he should. Sokka gives a tight smile.

“Morning, Aang."

“I didn’t know you were staying, uh, staying here.”

“Well, here I am.”

“Right. Okay, well, I just wanted to let Zuko know that we’d be leaving for penguin sledding as soon as you were up. But here you are. So. That’s good!”

“Thanks, buddy. We’ll be right out.”

Aang ducks back out of the igloo, grey eyes still wide. Sokka huffs a small chuckle and kisses Zuko’s cheek before releasing him to dress.

Zuko’s still staring at where Aang disappeared. Sokka’s face appears in front of him again a moment later, brow furrowed with concern. 

“Problem?”

Zuko’s mouth works a little. He’s stuck, mind whirring, embarrassed heat blooming across his face and chest. “Um.”

“It was pretty awkward, yeah,” Sokka nods. “Kid really should know to knock.”

“Um.”

Sokka sighs, but not impatiently. “Words, babe. Are you worried Aang’s going to say something? Because you know him as well as I do, and we both know he wouldn’t before checking with us.”

“No, no—I...that’s fine. It’s fine if he says something,” Zuko says. He’s nodding as he speaks, reassuring himself. “It’s fine. I want to tell them.”

“Yeah? There’s no rush.” 

Sokka says it casually. He means it, Zuko knows, but he also sees the flash of excitement that goes across his face. “We should. I really hope Katara doesn’t kill me.” He pauses. “Or your father, for that matter.”

“Katara’s definitely the one to be afraid of. Unless you’re forgetting, your last match on snow didn’t end so great for you.” Sokka laughs and wipes away an imaginary tear. “But no, she’ll be cool. I’m pretty sure she's already guessed.”

“Agni help me,” Zuko mutters.

Sokka laughs again and throws a bundle of clothes at him. They dress and meet the others for breakfast, where Aang sends them a curious glance but says nothing. An hour. Zuko only has to endure it for an hour.

It creeps by, but Zuko survives the meal with clammy palms and an unsteady heart. Nobody pays him mind besides Sokka, who gives him a private smile as they head out to find some otter penguins. 

It’s not hard. They’re abundant in the South Pole. The hard part is waiting for Aang to find a hill that suits his specific and numerous sledding needs. In the end, Katara loses her patience and helps him bend a course of ice and snow. It’s daunting—Zuko’s pretty sure he doesn’t bounce the way he did years ago, and there’s a real chance of injury. 

“Aren’t we too old for this?” he asks nobody in particular. 

Toph snorts. “Speak for yourself, Lord Grouchy.”

“I’m just saying, someone could get hurt.”

“That’s very pragmatic, Zuko. But Katara’s a very skilled healer,” Suki reminds him.

“Yeah, so stop being a wimp,” Toph says.

“I don’t see you jumping on a penguin,” Zuko snaps. It’s not quite fair, since she can’t see. Zuko’s still irritated. 

Toph makes a rude gesture and grabs Suki’s arm to drag them toward a pair of otter penguins. Suki wrangles them and gets Toph situated, then they push off and slide down the slope with a flurry of excited shouts. 

“You don’t have to, remember,” Sokka says. He runs at a penguin and hops on. “But it’s fun!” he shouts as he disappears down the hill. 

Zuko drops his face into his hand. Then he grabs a damn penguin. 

Nobody manages to get hurt. Sokka tumbles on a sharp curve and smacks his head, worrying Zuko for a moment, but he’s up and grinning within seconds. Zuko forgot how hard his skull is. 

The group collapses in a circle on the snow after a few rounds. The penguins are tolerant, but the flock had moved on after being manhandled one too many times.

“Thanks for doing this, everyone,” Aang says.

“It was great! We should take breaks like this more often,” Suki says. 

“I agree. There should be time every year for a family vacation,” Aang suggests.

“We’ve been so busy lately,” Katara says. “I miss you all.”

“I vote the next trip we take is on _land_ ,” Toph says. 

“You’re all doing such great things,” Zuko says. “A metalbending school, training new Kyoshi warriors, keeping peace across the world, and the future Southern Water Tribe chief...I’m proud to call each of you a friend.”

There’s a quiet moment. Then Toph asks, with her usual brashness, “Okay, who broke Zuko?”

“It was sweet,” Suki says in his defense.

“We love you too, Zuko,” Aang says. “And we’re proud to call you a friend.”

Zuko’s cheeks heat, because he hadn’t realized what he was trying to express until Aang said it so easily. But he does love them all, and he hopes they know it. 

“Alright, enough with the lovefest,” Sokka says.

“Sokka, don’t be a downer,” Katara chides. 

“I’m not being a downer! I have big mushy feelings for you all too, yadda yadda. I’m not sure why Zuko thinks you’ll be the future chief, but hey.”

Zuko laughs a little. “Funny, Sokka.”

“Hmm?”

“Katara’s already said she plans to travel with Aang and go where they’re needed. You won’t be in the Fire Nation forever, so when your father decides to step down you’ll be chief.” Zuko says this with surety. It’s the facts—he doesn’t like it, but whatever he has with Sokka won’t be permanent. 

Maybe he _does_ still hate himself. Why else would he be pursuing something that’s already set to expire?

“Oh, that. No, I won’t be.”

“What?” 

“I won’t be chief. That’s not what I want, and there are other great members of the tribe who are fit to lead and who want to do it. Whenever my dad wants to retire it’ll pass to one of them, or even a council, since we’re so much bigger now. Who knows.”

The air hanging above their little circle suddenly feels heavier. This is unacceptable—Zuko cannot live with himself if Sokka is giving up his destiny because of a romance that Zuko’s almost certainly going to royally screw up, given enough time. 

He sits up. “Sokka, no. You have to.”

Sokka glances at him from his spot in the snow. “Nope. Don’t want to, don’t have to, not going to.”

“No. You are not doing this because of me.”

“Did I ever say I was, Zuko?” Sokka’s voice takes on an edge. 

“You can’t stay in the Fire Nation.” 

Sokka’s jaw clenches and his eyes dart away from Zuko. “I’m going fishing,” he mutters. He stands and strides away from the group.

All other eyes are on Zuko. Toph says, “So did you two dunderheads finally get it on?”

Katara smacks her arm. Zuko ignores them and punches a fireball into the air before storming back to his igloo.

* * *

He’s too embarrassed to see the others. He doesn’t even care that they certainly know about him and Sokka. He’s furious that Sokka made a decision like that without telling him, without giving him the opportunity to talk him out of it. 

Zuko skips dinner and spends the evening in his igloo. He tries meditating, with little success. He’s so tired by the time Katara calls from the entrance that he’s not even irritated by the intrusion.

“I brought you some dinner,” she says, pushing through the flap. 

“Oh. Thank you,” Zuko says. He’s not hungry but he eats before she has a chance to force him.

Katara sits across from him. “How are you doing?”

“Fine.”

“Zuko, I know we’re not the closest in the group, but I am your friend. And Sokka’s my brother, so whatever is going on with you two...I’ll listen, if you want that. Or help, if I can.”

“I—that’s alright. I shouldn’t have made a scene earlier. I apologize for ruining the day.”

“Nobody thinks you ruined it. We just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I am.”

Katara sighs. “Sokka’s an idiot sometimes, and he can be boneheaded, but I assure you that he thought about this.”

“Not enough to let me know, apparently.”

“Maybe he knew you’d react this way?” Katara suggests. She does it gently, but it still rankles.

Zuko pushes his food aside. “Maybe. But how was I supposed to react?”

“People want to be heard, Zuko. Do you ever just feel like you need someone to listen, and not say anything for a while? Sokka does that for me, sometimes. And Aang and Toph. Maybe he hoped you would be the one to do it for him.”

_Heard_. Zuko’s never been very good at hearing what others are trying to tell him. Just thinking about how dense he was when it came to Uncle’s teachings all those years ago is enough to make him wince. 

“I...I can understand that. Thank you, Katara.”

She smiles weakly. “Make sure you finish that,” she says, with a nod to his dinner. Then she leaves the igloo. 

Zuko desperately wants to find Sokka. He won’t, though. He left because he needed space, time to cool off. They both did. Zuko will try to give Sokka what he needs, this time. 

Sokka doesn’t come to the igloo that night.

Zuko’s nightmares leave his throat raw and his head pounding when dawn comes. 

Sokka’s not at breakfast either. There was an early fishing trip, Katara says, and everyone else drifts away to attend to other things around the village. Zuko hopes they’re enjoying their vacations more than he is at the moment. 

He sits near the fire in the community igloo until midday, feeling unmoored. For all that he feels lonely, Zuko is no longer used to being alone. Since becoming accustomed to Sokka as his constant companion these last months he’s not sure what to do with himself in his absence.

Zuko startles as a heavy sac is dropped into his lap. He looks up to see Kanna peering down at him. 

“Make yourself useful,” she says. 

Zuko looks into the sac and wrinkles his nose. “These are fish.”

“Yes. Go clean them,” Kanna says. “That’s dinner tonight.” She gives him directions to the cleaning hut and walks away.

Zuko goes, still wanting to make a better impression on the older woman. As he nears the hut, he realizes the smell alone would have been sufficient for him to find the place. 

There’s nobody else there when he enters. Despite the smell, it’s clean. Assorted knives hang on the wall, and there’s a large slab in the center.

Zuko tosses the fish onto the slab and grabs a knife. He’s not really sure what he’s doing, but he’s seen Sokka gut meat before so it can’t be too hard. 

The first two fish end up in hacked bits. Blood stains the slab and his hands, which are freezing until he blows some warmth into them. He grabs another fish, determined to get it right. 

He’s studying how to best approach it—maybe if he starts from the tail end?—when Hakoda walks into the hut. 

“Whoa, easy there. They’re already dead.”

Zuko clenches his jaw. “I thought this would be easier.”

Hakoda chuckles. “When I heard that you were sent here with our dinner I figured I should come check on you. I want to eat tonight, and there’s a bit of a trick to this.”

Zuko shouldn’t be okay with another political leader acting so familiar with him, but under the circumstances he finds it reassuring. A reminder that not everyone is afraid of him. He meets Hakoda’s gaze. “Do you...I want to learn. Can you show me?”

Surprise flickers across Hakoda's face, but he nods. “Of course. First off, you want the right kind of knife. That one’s not even close. And—really kid, are you starting at the tail?”

Hakoda demonstrates, making the whole thing look smooth and easy. Zuko studies him and gets walked through another fish. The result is something that’s probably bony and wastes a lot of the meat, but he does it. 

It’s a small accomplishment, but Zuko hasn’t used his hands for much lately so it feels larger than it is. 

He steps back to let Hakoda salvage the rest. “Actually, sir, maybe we should speak."

“What about?”

“Sokka suggested that he wasn’t interested in taking over for you in the Tribe when the time comes. I want you to know that I had no idea, and I would have never let him stay in the Fire Nation for so long had I known. I plan to talk to him, and ensure that there is no more confusion about this.”

There’s a pause. “Ah. So that’s what Sokka was so upset about when he left this morning.”

“Uh, I suppose. We had a—a heated exchange yesterday.”

“During this exchange, did Sokka tell you that we spoke about this _before_ he went to visit you, and that I support his decision?”

Zuko’s jaw slackens. “Sir?”

Hakoda sighs and turns, wiping the knife in the snow. “It wasn’t easy for me to hear at first either, but he doesn’t want this. At least for now. I know my son loves his people, and if he ever wants to be a part of the council, I have no doubt there will be a position for him here.”

“So...you’re not upset with him being in the Fire Nation?”

“Not as long as he wants to be there and he’s treated well,” Hakoda says with a pointed brow raised at Zuko. He flushes and glances away. 

“Um, about that—”

“It’s good, Zuko. Really.”

Zuko takes a shaky breath. “I was worried he was making this decision because of me. And I’d never want that.”

Hakoda chuckles. “When have you known Sokka to do something he didn’t want to do? The decision is for him, I can tell you that. But if you need to hear it from him, I’d suggest coming up with a way to make up soon.”

“I will. But—you’re really okay with...this?” Zuko finishes lamely, waving vaguely at himself. 

“All I want for my children is for them to be happy. Safe would be nice, too, but Spirits know that’s a lot to ask for with how you kids manage to find yourself in trouble.” Hakoda shakes his head. “If the Avatar and the Fire Lord are a part of that happiness, it’s more than fine by me.”

Zuko exhales, heavy with relief. “Thank you, Hakoda. I’ve been realizing lately that I’m very fortunate in many ways. I have people around me who care about my well-being, and I need to learn to be better at returning that care. I promise that I will do my best.”

Hakoda smiles encouragingly and claps Zuko’s shoulder as he passes to leave the hut. “Clean up and get those fish to Kanna, would you, son?”

* * *

Zuko finally sees Sokka at dinner, around a fire, and the sight wrenches the air from his lungs. His mouth is downturned, blue eyes cold—an unusual expression on a face that’s designed for smiling. He converses with others in the circle before settling next to Zuko.

Zuko’s apprehensive to even move in case he scares him off. He glances at the bowl of fish in Sokka’s hand and blurts, “Is your dinner alright?” 

Agni, he can be useless.

“Heard you were the one to mangle the fish,” Sokka says. He doesn’t look at Zuko, but he’s not yelling either, so that seems like a good sign. 

“Um. Yeah.”

There’s a long pause. Zuko trains his gaze back on the fire. “Still tastes good,” Sokka says, eventually.

Zuko nods. Then he reaches over, slowly, to hover his hand over Sokka’s knee. He waits for a beat, giving Sokka an opportunity to push it away. He doesn’t, so Zuko drops it and squeezes. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I should’ve listened. I wasn’t hearing you. And I didn’t mean what I said. You know you can stay in the Fire Nation, as long as you want.”

“Do you want me to stay?”

“Of course,” Zuko murmurs. “Of course I do.”

It’s Sokka’s turn to nod. “I’m not angry. It _was_ pretty crappy of you to not hear me out, because if you had I could’ve told you it wasn’t like that. But it also wasn’t fair for me to spring that on you the way I did.”

“I should have handled it better.”

Sokka huffs a weak chuckle. “If you handled it better, I’d be wondering who I was talking to. I know better than to drop something like that without time for you to process it. And if...if we’re gonna do this thing, be partners, then I need to let you in on decisions before I make them.”

Zuko’s heart lurches when he hears the word _partners_. He wants this so badly. “We weren’t—it wasn’t like that between us when you decided this, so it was only your decision.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. But not anymore, okay? We make a pretty good team when we work together, so we just have to figure out how to do it with our relationship, too.”

“Yeah,” Zuko breathes. “Yeah, we’ll do that.”

“So, I heard you and my dad had a talk—don’t tell me you were already asking for his blessing. I am a pretty great catch, but you don’t have to wait for that to get into my parka, you know.”

Zuko groans a little. “ _Stop_.”

Sokka laughs. It’s a balm for Zuko’s aching soul. “Nah, I don’t think I will.”

“Does this mean you’re coming to bed tonight?”

“Mmm. If you ask really nicely.”

Zuko smacks his arm, but he smiles as he turns back to the fire. 

Emotions are draining, Zuko’s always thought. Even though things are patched up, he’s tired. He fades early, sleep tugging at the frayed edges of his mind, and he whispers to Sokka that he’s going to head back to the igloo. Sokka stands with him.

“You two turning in already?” Aang asks.

“Yeah, it was a long day. Goodnight, guys,” Sokka says.

“Oh, before you go—we were thinking of taking some of the village kids for a ride on Appa tomorrow morning. Want us to meet you outside your place, Sokka?” Suki asks. 

“Oh, uh, sure, I guess that—”

“Just meet us at my—our place. Our igloo,” Zuko cuts in. His face is probably red and his stomach feels like it's at his knees, but he wants them to know, to hear it from his own mouth. 

Suki grins. “Sounds good.”

“That’s great,” Aang adds, beaming. 

“Have fun tonight, Snoozles,” Toph says. Katara only shakes her head. 

Sokka rolls his eyes and grabs Zuko’s hand to pull him away.

They're silent until they’re tangled in bed, where Sokka murmurs, “That means a lot. You being open like that.”

“I wanted to. For you, and also for me,” Zuko says. As nervous as he was about the prospect earlier, it feels right that his friends know. It wasn’t a _thing_ , and now he’s not sure why he ever expected it to be.

Sokka just smiles, soft and warm, and Zuko’s rewarded with soothing kisses and head pets before they sleep. 

* * *

The next week in the South Pole goes smoothly. Zuko thinks he’s finally getting the hang of this vacation business. He’s even sleeping a little better.

The only thing missing is the next step with Sokka. 

Zuko loves the kissing and the holding each other and the—pretty much everything else that comes with being with Sokka. He feels safe, understood.

He also feels frustratingly _frustrated_. He doesn’t think he’s ever been this attracted to another person, and lying close in bed every night is the worst kind of tease. It’s difficult to find enough time alone to take care of the problem himself, and he suspects it won’t be satisfying. He wonders why Sokka isn’t making a move—he’s surely feeling the same, and he generally has no issues with letting Zuko know what he thinks. 

Zuko’s tucked in bed with his back plastered to Sokka’s chest when he mentions it. It’s early. He’s been up for a while already, but hasn’t moved for fear of disturbing his partner. When he feels Sokka swallow and shift, he knows he’s awake.

Zuko doesn’t bother with a good morning. 

“I have a question,” he says.

“It’s too early for thinking,” Sokka complains.

Zuko carries on. “We’ve been doing this for a while, right? This, but also the other stuff, before this trip.”

“Pretty sure we use the same calendar, babe.”

He rolls his eyes. “Why haven’t we—uh, done more?”

“More?”

“You know.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Zuko’s face heats. He can hear the amusement in Sokka’s voice, but he wants answers. “The... _sex,_ ” he says, a little harshly. “Why haven’t we? If you want to wait, that’s fine, obviously. I just thought you were interested.”

Sokka stills behind him. “You just _thought_ I was interested.”

“Um. Yes?”

“I guess I wasn’t as obvious as _I_ thought.”

“No, no, I—you’re making fun of me.”

Sokka laughs, warm breath against the back of Zuko’s neck. “Yes, I’m making fun of you. What did I say about you asking for what you want? You could have told me at any moment that you wanted _the sex_ and I’d have raced you back to the igloo.”

Zuko takes a deep breath. “Why do you insist on doing this to me?”

“ _To_ you? Zuko, I’m doing this _for_ you. For someone who grew up ordering servants around, you’re total shit at actually asking for what you want. This is very important skill-building we’re doing. Again, I’ll take a raise when we get home.”

Zuko twists to glare at Sokka. 

He only lets it linger for a second, just long enough to make his point, because there’s no way he can actually be upset at Sokka—and definitely not when he just called the Fire Nation _home._ Then he cradles his face to pull him closer for a kiss, reaches his hand under the covers to brush over Sokka’s hip and tug him closer. 

“I want _the sex_ ,” he says. Sokka grins and rolls over onto him.

“Finally.”

Whatever Zuko opens his mouth to retort with is cut off by Sokka catching him in a messy, hot kiss. He jerks a little in surprise when he finds another tongue in his mouth, but tries to relax into the exploration that’s happening. 

Sokka pulls away. “Not a fan of that?”

“It’s...it’s fine.”

“Oh, babe. We’re going for a lot better than fine. If you like something, tell me. If you _don’t_ like something, _definitely_ tell me. Okay?”

Zuko nods. “I like it when you, um. Kiss my neck,” he tries. 

Sokka smiles like he’s proud. He dips down to work little kisses and nips along Zuko’s throat. Zuko tilts his head for better access, sighing with pleasure. 

Sokka trails back up along his jaw, coming back to his mouth. The kiss is more chaste, but not so chaste that Zuko forgets what he wants by the end of this. Zuko runs his hands along Sokka’s shoulders and ribs, letting them wander where they will. 

Sokka drops his head to nip at Zuko’s ear. “Have you done this before?” he murmurs. 

Zuko’s barely thinking. “Um. Yeah. S’been a long time though.” He doesn’t know if Sokka’s done this before—Zuko has to assume yes, based on how good he is so far. 

“Good. So you know what you like?”

The answer to that is a resounding _not really._ Zuko’s had enough encounters to get the mechanics down, but it’s always been just that—mechanical, perfunctory. Serving a purpose. He’s always gotten off, but that’s about it. 

“Sort of,” he says. “Maybe some things.”

Sokka frowns down at him. “You’ve gotta get better people in your bed, if that’s a maybe.”

“Can we—I just want you. I don’t want to think about them.”

Sokka wraps his arms under Zuko and squeezes. “Yeah, of course. Of course.”

Zuko exhales with relief. “Keep going?”

Sokka does so, enthusiastically. Zuko thinks he could probably spend an eternity like this. Warm weight on top of him, and Sokka mouthing along his neck and jaw. He feels more relaxed than he has in a long time. 

Sokka’s hands trail up Zuko’s body, branding him where they drag across the skin. Fingers creep into his hair, and Sokka’s nails ruck gently on his scalp. Zuko moans shamelessly. It’s not an inherently sexual thing, but he finds the simple care of it to be incredibly arousing. 

“I _love_ that,” he whispers. 

“Mm, I know,” Sokka says. Zuko feels him smile against his neck. 

“How—what can I do for you?” he asks. He needs to touch Sokka, to do something. He’s being too selfish.

“This _is_ doing it for me,” Sokka says. “You’re doing plenty.” He punctuates it with a hard kiss and a press of his hips forward. 

_Oh._ Zuko snakes a hand down, tapping on Sokka’s hip. He lifts up a little, just enough for Zuko to slip his hand into his pants and grip him. Sokka lets out a hiss but keeps his lips traveling across Zuko’s neck and down to his collarbone.

He’s hot and hard and big, and Zuko wants him in his mouth.

“Sokka— _baby_ ,” he says. It’s Sokka’s pet name for him but he figures there’s no reason they can’t share. “Can I blow you? Please?”

Sokka looks at Zuko like he’s just announced he’s actually a waterbender. Then he drops a final kiss on him before sitting back. “Shit, yeah. Please do that,” he says. 

Zuko scrambles up to a sitting position, watching hungrily as Sokka peels off his pants and tosses them across the small space. He doesn’t bother to suppress the shudder that goes through him at seeing his partner so exposed, and so clearly wanting him. 

Sokka’s watching him with a curious expression. Zuko surges forward and straddles him, dragging his lips and teeth across his jaw, throat, chest. He pauses above a nipple to suck a bruise into the dark skin. It tastes slightly salty, the way Sokka always smells after time on the water. Satisfied with his work there, Zuko moves down to his abs, still kissing and sucking and reveling in the little groans Sokka lets out. He reaches a hand up when he arrives between his legs, and Sokka answers his silent question by tangling their fingers together with a squeeze. It’s grounding, a tether Zuko needs. 

He uses his other hand to grip Sokka’s cock and press a light kiss to the tip. He looks up at Sokka, who’s no longer watching. His eyes are shut tight, his chest flushed.

Zuko grins and decides that a thorough teasing would be an appropriate due for Sokka’s earlier torture. He’s not mad, certainly, but he was playing a game with rules that weren’t his. With this, he knows the rules. 

He moves to lick and kiss around Sokka’s inner thighs, up again to his hipbone, back and forth a few times. His fingers curl a little in the hair low on Sokka’s belly. Sokka’s hitch of breath makes his own cock twitch, but he ignores it for now. He huffs warm air on the tip of Sokka’s cock, close enough that his lips brush but not any more than that. 

“Such a tease,” Sokka groans. 

“It’s what you deserve,” Zuko says, trying for haughty. His voice comes out rough and breathy instead. Sokka cracks an eye open to smirk at him.

Zuko flushes and gives no warning before taking Sokka down to the back of his throat. He’s ready for the initial urge to gag, and relaxes around it. Sokka, for once, is rendered wordless.

Sokka’s fingers are a vice in Zuko’s own, hips twitching upward as Zuko moves. He leans a little more weight on the arm braced on Sokka’s thigh and hums around him as he bobs and sucks in a steady rhythm. 

“Fuck, baby. So amazing,” Sokka murmurs, voice strained. “Spirits, Zuko.”

Sokka breathes his name with a reverence that even Zuko cannot possibly miss. 

Zuko’s never had this effect on anyone before. It’s a heady feeling, exciting and gratifying. It’s more than the sex, though. Zuko’s not great at identifying his emotions when his mouth _isn’t_ full of dick, but he’s feeling _something_ now. It’s overwhelming. Too much—feeling is spilling over and out of his chest. 

He swallows hard and pulls off to sit up. 

“Want something else, sweetheart?” Sokka asks as he props himself up on his elbows to look at Zuko. His relaxed expression immediately falls. “Shit, _what’s wrong_?”

Zuko whimpers and slaps his hands over his face. He’s crying, hot tears streaking down his cheeks, and he hates himself in the moment because this was not the plan. Sokka shouldn’t have to deal with this. Zuko doesn’t even know what _this_ is. 

Sokka’s arms wrap around him and he’s bundled against his chest, then arranged so they’re both lying on their sides again. Zuko tries to get his breathing under control as a hand strokes his head. He babbles incoherent apologies with every pass of Sokka’s fingers through his hair. 

“Did I do something? Please, sweetheart. Talk to me,” Sokka murmurs. 

Zuko shakes his head. “You didn’t do anything.”

“Okay. Just no good? We’ll stop, okay? We’ll stop here.”

“No!” Zuko doesn’t want to stop. 

That’s just it—he’s overwhelmed by how much he wants. He’s terrified by it. 

Sokka says nothing, just continues to pet his hair and wait. It’s a long few minutes before Zuko’s formulated a way to express himself. His voice is hoarse and quiet, but the tears have stopped. 

“It’s good,” he whispers, eventually. “It’s really great. I guess I get...scared? That it won’t be enough for you. But also because I’ve never had something this good before. Not just in bed. I, um. I just was feeling a lot.”

Sokka presses a kiss to the top of his head. “It’s okay to be scared. I’m a little scared, too, because I care about you so much, and that’s always a scary thing. But it breaks my heart to hear that you could possibly think that this— _you_ —wouldn’t be enough for me. I’m sorry, baby. You are way more than enough, and I’m gonna make sure you feel that way, okay?”

Zuko trembles a bit with another small sob. “Okay,” he says somewhere against Sokka’s chest. 

Sokka gives him a firm, full-bodied squeeze. “Good. What do you need right now?”

“I want to keep going.”

Sokka chuckles. “Honey, we really don’t have to.”

“I _want_ to,” Zuko repeats, more forcefully. He lifts his head to look up at Sokka, willing him to see his resolve.

Sokka licks his lips and considers him for a long moment. “Yeah, okay. Sure, baby. What do you want?”

_Everything_. Instead of answering he tips up for a kiss, easy and loose. It deepens in moments, and soon Zuko’s on his back with Sokka between his legs. 

He’s hard again, Sokka’s hard, he wants somebody to _do_ something. The overwhelmed feeling is already back, but he’s burning with it now. When he reaches a hand down between them, Sokka catches it and holds it gently on the mattress beside his head. 

“Your turn,” Sokka says, moving to work his lips down Zuko’s neck again.

Zuko’s heart has been reduced to kindling. The air is chilled but Zuko can feel every point of Sokka’s body against his own like a brand, from the press of his hands into the mattress to the brush of their ankles entwined at the end of the bed. His skin soaks in the heat, hungry for more. 

“Sokka,” he groans. “I’m gonna combust.”

“Do it. I’d like to make you melt this fucking igloo, baby. How does that sound?”

Zuko’s far too gone for words, which he’s never been good with anyway. He nods furiously. Sokka lifts himself on his arms and chuckles down at him.

“You look so hot like this.”

“Fuck, Sokka, please, _please_.”

“Please what? You have to ask.”

“Touch me. Fuck. Please. Anything you want.”

“Nuh-uh, this is about you, remember?” Sokka says, but he reaches down and palms over Zuko’s cock regardless. Zuko keens, arching into the featherlight touch. He’s begging, with his words and his body, but it feels so good. Sokka thumbs at the waist of his sleeping pants. 

“Can I take these off?”

Zuko nods again. Sokka doesn’t have to ask, Zuko’s going to say yes to pretty much anything, but he knows nothing will happen until Sokka knows for certain he wants it. 

He arches his hips up to help ease off the pants. They land on the ground with a soft thud and calloused palms slide up his thighs, barely skimming the pale skin. Zuko wriggles impatiently as if that alone will make Sokka move faster. 

Finally, _finally_ , Sokka’s hand is on him. He doesn’t stop himself from keening a little, high and needy. 

Zuko tried convincing himself for a while that the head pets and sleeping side by side without touching were enough. That he would be satisfied if that was all he could ever have. Zuko could have lied to himself all he wanted—he’s pretty good at it—but no, he’d never have been happy without feeling Sokka’s touch. 

Sokka strokes him root to head. He’s smiling, and Zuko can hardly stand to look at the lust and affection in his gaze. He does, though, if only to convince himself it’s really there. 

“You want my mouth, baby?” Sokka murmurs. “Or do you wanna come like this?”

He increases his pressure and Zuko arches into it, slamming his eyes shut. “Inside me,” he breathes. “I want you inside me.”

Zuko’s previous experiences haven’t been stellar on this front. He usually prefers to be the giver in this case, if only to avoid the feeling of being vulnerable without being cared for. But he wants it now, wants Sokka enveloped in him and holding him together with the care that Zuko trusts he will. 

Sokka inhales sharply. Zuko blinks his eyes open to look at him. His partner’s blue eyes are wide, a little incredulous, but very much enticed.

Zuko shifts his hips closer and grinds up. He bites his lip and meets Sokka’s gaze again.

“That’s so _unfair,_ ” Sokka groans. “Okay, baby. Give me a second.”

Sokka’s weight leaves as he twists off the bed to dig around one of the bags scattered haphazardly on the ground. He comes back with a small vial of clear oil. Zuko shivers a little, not from the cold. 

“You came prepared,” he says.

Sokka smirks. “I came _optimistic._ Spirits know you couldn’t stay oblivious forever.”

“I wasn’t oblivious, just—”

“Infuriatingly stubborn?”

Zuko huffs and crosses his arms. Sokka laughs at the result. Zuko can’t blame him. It’s difficult to look indignant when he’s completely naked and was begging a minute ago.

Sokka leans down and kisses Zuko’s mouth until his lips are pliant and swollen. Zuko sighs, letting his hands settle on Sokka’s waist as he hovers over him.

He lets the first note of a startled cry slip into Sokka’s mouth when a finger is pressed directly against his entrance. He can feel Sokka smiling against his lips as he swirls and teases, and Zuko shifts to place a hard nip on the side of his throat. 

“Don’t you want this, baby?” Sokka murmurs. 

“You— _ngh._ You know I do.”

“Mm. Do I? Not if you don’t tell me,” Sokka says, grinning wickedly.

“Stop _tormenting_ me.”

Zuko gasps as Sokka presses into him, no longer teasing. “Doing good?” Sokka asks. 

Zuko mumbles assent, his eyes closed. Sokka keeps working his fingers into him, nearly drowning Zuko in sensation. Sokka murmurs encouragement and praise through it all, and he eagerly soaks it up. 

If Sokka wants to give, then Zuko will allow himself to take. 

He cries out when Sokka’s fingers hitch to rub on a particularly sensitive spot, sending his head spiralling. Sokka’s moving so slowly it’s almost torturous, every crook of his fingers so much and yet not enough. 

“You ready, babe?” Sokka asks eventually. Zuko’s limp and blissed out already. He opens his eyes and nods fiercely. 

“ _Please."_

He hisses as he loses the fullness of Sokka’s hand. Sokka sits back to coat himself in oil, then drops onto Zuko for a messy kiss. He’s breathing hard, and Zuko imagines he’s _more_ than ready to go, but Sokka eases into him slower and gentler than anyone ever has before. 

He groans, banding his arms around his partner and pressing their bodies as close as he can manage. “So—ah, _so_ good,” he murmurs. 

Sokka lifts up to look at him once he’s in to the hilt. “You feel perfect, baby,” he says. “Gonna make you feel good. Fucking _perfect_.”

Zuko lets out a small whimper. Sokka looks concerned for a moment before taking in the watery smile Zuko offers. He’s not upset, just consumed with pleasure. 

And peace. Zuko’s not used to peace. Even his subconscious rejects the notion, torturing him nightly with horrifying dreams. Clawing tendrils of doubt and uncertainty plague most of his waking hours, and even as he grows into his role as Fire Lord he wonders when or if he’ll ever feel truly content in his own skin.

He feels content now, though. Holding onto someone he never thought he’d have, someone he doesn’t deserve yet but wants to try to be worthy of, Zuko feels happier than he thought possible for himself. 

The first pull out and thrust from Sokka is exquisitely _excruciating_. He starts slow, drawing every motion out until Zuko’s gasping at him to _fucking move_ already. Sokka obliges, laughing a little at his demands. 

Sokka’s peppering Zuko’s face, even his scar, with kisses as he moves in a steady rhythm. His hands are still in Zuko’s hair, tracing patterns on his scalp. Zuko hums in response to each one, holding onto Sokka’s hips with a firm grasp. The lovemaking is almost lazy. The only sounds in the igloo are their mingling pants, and the soft slide of their bodies against one another. Nobody’s hurried, or working hard to reach a goal—it’s pure enjoyment.

“Feeling good, sweetheart?” Sokka asks, not waiting for an answer before driving his hips forward hard. Zuko gasps, clutching at Sokka’s waist.

His answer—something along the lines of _fuck, yes, right there_ —never reaches his lips before they’re captured by Sokka’s mouth. His weight drops harder onto Zuko as his hips still, leaving Zuko aching for that sweet friction again. 

He grinds up, chasing that feeling, but Sokka doesn’t let him have it. He only kisses him for a moment, nipping gently at his lower lip. “You’re doing so good, honey,” Sokka murmurs against his mouth. “So good for me.”

A strangled whine erupts from someplace deep within Zuko, louder than anything that’s come from him so far. Sokka’s head snaps up and Zuko stares wide-eyed as his lips tip up into a blazing smile. 

“You really like that, huh?”

“Y-yes,” Zuko breathes.

“Baby, I could tell you all day how good you are. How beautiful. So pretty, Zuko. Spirits, everything you do. You have no idea what you do to me,” Sokka babbles. “If you could see yourself right now. Tui and La.”

Zuko can’t manage any response beyond a chorus of _Sokka_ and _please_ and _don’t stop._

Sokka’s eyes stay locked on his as he gives another deep thrust to hit the spot that ignites a flame low in Zuko’s belly. “That good, honey? Want me to finish like this?”

Zuko nods hard, strands of black hair falling into his face. Sokka brushes them back and kisses him again as he restarts his movement. 

“So good, honey. Perfect,” he murmurs. It’s a faster, intentional rhythm now, and Zuko can do little more than ride through it. He rakes his fingers down Sokka’s back, his legs locked tight around his hips.

It’s a bit of a surprise when Sokka comes short seconds later, groaning wordlessly into Zuko’s neck and thrusting erratically as he curls around him. Zuko strokes his back through it, then whimpers at the drag as Sokka pulls back.

The whimper turns into a cry as his own cock, hard and neglected, is swallowed deep. He can feel Sokka chuckle around him, then start to move rapidly. He’s great at this too, the combination of suction and firm teasing with his tongue sending Zuko’s mind tumbling into a void that contains only hot pleasure and _Sokka Sokka Sokka._ Within moments Zuko’s tugging on his hair gently in a warning.

Sokka ignores the signal. He swallows deeply as Zuko comes harder than he thinks ever has, then pulls off to stroke him gently until he’s too sensitive for more. Zuko’s boneless, ready to melt into the bed as he pants to catch his breath. 

Sokka flops down beside him and slings a leg over his waist. “Good, baby?” he asks, nuzzling into the spot behind Zuko’s ear. 

Zuko doesn’t have words for how good it was. On so many levels. 

“S’good,” he slurs. “Amazing. Love you.”

Sokka's entire body goes taut for an instant—only an instant. Then the tension flows out of him and a hand creeps back into Zuko’s hair. Zuko is asleep in minutes, not aware of anything more. 

* * *

“Come _on,_ baby. It’s been so long since you took a break,” Sokka says. He’s exasperated, Zuko knows. They’ve been having variations on this conversation for over a month.

“We had that tour in the Earth Kingdom this spring,” Zuko points out.

“That was _work_. You need a vacation. Aang and Katara are coming next week, and Toph wants us to pick her up. It’ll be fun! Tell the old codgers that Iroh will take care of things for a little while and let’s _go_.”

Zuko shakes his head and looks back to the papers he’s trying to read. It’s late, he’s tired, and Sokka’s been badgering him from the couch in the study for the past half hour. “I have too much to do,” Zuko says. He sleeps well lately, with less frequent nightmares, but that hasn’t lessened his workload. 

“That’s exactly why you need a break.”

Zuko hums a dismissal and hears Sokka groan from the couch. He’s not _trying_ to be difficult, but he has a job to do. He doesn’t look up as he hears a rustle and footsteps approach to stop behind him.

Sokka rubs his shoulders first, his thumbs finding tense spots and pushing until they release. Zuko’s entire body is probably one knot at this point, but he leans into the massage despite the soreness. He’s not reading anymore, too focused on the feel of his partner’s hands grounding him in his body.

Fingers travel to his hair and he relents. He always does, when it comes to this. He tips his head back, letting the weight of it drop into Sokka’s hands. Warm breath tickles his cheek as Sokka leans down to kiss and nibble at his earlobe, drawing a reluctant sigh from Zuko. His eyes drift closed.

“Listen, baby. _I_ need a break, okay?”

“Then you should take one,” Zuko says. “You know you can. Whatever you need.”

“What I need,” Sokka whispers, “Is for you to let me take care of you, too. You liked our vacation last year, right? That was fun?”

Zuko’s face warms. It was fun, despite the relentless teasing they’d endured once word got around the village about them. It hadn’t helped that one particularly heated night had resulted in a _mildly_ melted igloo wall. 

“Yeah, I...I had a nice time.”

“That’s good. Me too. I couldn’t believe how lucky I was.”

“I’m the lucky one,” Zuko says automatically. “But I know what you’re doing, and it won’t work.”

“Oh, won’t it?” Sokka asks, sucking gently on Zuko’s neck. He has to contain a whimper. “How about this? I think I know what title I want,” Sokka murmurs.

“Really?” Zuko’s been trying to get him to pick one for months, and every time he brushes it off. “The Ambassador position is still open, are you going to take it?”

“Mm, no.”

“Then what?”

“How does official consort to the Fire Lord sound?”

Zuko’s eyes fly open. He gapes at Sokka, whose face is hanging over him and smiling knowingly as he keeps up the head pets.

“Um.”

“Would you like that?”

“ _Yes_ ,” he breathes, without hesitation. Zuko would like that very much.

It would be a _dream_ , one of many Zuko’s half convinced he’s been living in for the past year. 

Sokka tips down to give him a peck on the nose. “Good. Then let’s take this vacation. I want to do this right, and you’re already spoiling the surprise for yourself.”

Zuko doesn’t love surprises, but he loves the man behind him more than anything, and he knows how much he enjoys grand gestures and just _doing_ things for others. Zuko’s thrumming with elation—this is more than enough for him to want to broadcast the news immediately, but if Sokka wants to do this his way... Zuko will be patient. 

Zuko licks his lips and stands. He nearly throws himself onto Sokka, wrapping his arms around him and tucking his chin into his neck. 

“I’ll let them know we’re taking a vacation, right away,” he murmurs. Sokka squeezes him around the middle, his laughter rumbling through Zuko’s chest. 

“I expect a _significant_ raise when we get back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
